We The Marauders
by lilysxx
Summary: Some friendships are doomed from the beginning, some live on till the bitter end. Ours did both, but still I treasure every moment. We will always live inside my memory as we were, we the marauders. JAMES POV- Moony/Wormtail/Padfoot/Prongs MOSTLY CANON BUT I KNOW THERE ARE MISTAKES IF THAT'S WHY YOU'RE REVIEWING and all Rated T for a gruesome scene in the infirmary
1. The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship

This one's for you, Harry. Because I want you to know how much I love you, or loved you I guess I should say now.

It's for you too, Lily. Because I am so sorry. I am sorry that I couldn't save you. I am sorry that we can't stand by Harry's side and hold his hand as he faces the troubles that our death has inevitably brought him.

It's for you, Severus. It's for everything you've done for my son that I couldn't, and for everything that you've tried to do for my wife, for loving her as much as I do. To you, as well, I am truly sorry.

Finally, it's for you, Moony, Wormtail and Padfoot. Though one of you would betray me, one of you would be blamed and one of you would also have to leave his son, you all join me and the rest of us as we hope the best for Harry. We will always remain the four best friends. Always, we the marauders

"Mother, get... of... me!" I said, wrenching away from my mother's tight grip and insufferable kisses.

"I think it's time we said goodbye, darling, the train's leaving in a few minutes!" said my father, finally coming to my rescue. He pulled my mother away from me, hugging her himself as she cried into his chest. I looked around to check that nobody was looking.

"My baby," wept my mother, dabbing her eyes with a sopping wet handkerchief. "He's all grown up and going off to school without me!"

"Indeed he is," said my father proudly, clapping my shoulder. I beamed under his hold. "Be good son," he said, and then I was off. I mounted the Hogwarts express proudly, not even turning to wave goodbye to my parents. The other first years were doing that, but as I looked around I saw all the fifth years walk on as if they didn't even have parents. I adopted their comfortable stride immediately. Who would want to be friends with a trembling kid?

I looked in to all the carriages as I passed, trying to find the most empty one. Friends would come to me, in time. I finally found one which was occupied by solely one other first year. She had deep red hair that hung over he shoulders, shielding her face. I ruffled my hair and entered, sitting on the opposite bench and away from the window against which she was leaning. She said nothing to me, simply sniffed and looked away.

I studied her as we waited for the train to fill up. Her eyes were gorgeous, almond shape and intense green. They blinked a lot, as if she were fighting tears which had welled up every now and then. She was exceptionally pretty, despite the redness around her nose and her slightly swollen mouth, suggesting along with the constant sniffles that she had before been crying. Still she didn't even look at me, so I gave up on trying to stare her into giving me her attention. I looked around the cabin instead, and outside the window at the dank walls of Platform 9 and 3/4s.

At some point, another boy came down and sat opposite me. I knew immediately that I wanted to be friends with him. He had naturally messy hair that fell every which way, and sat down with his legs parted, his black boots hitting the floor with a thud. He carried the same confidence I did, and he seemed to register my presence as much as I did his.

I was about to open my mouth and initiate a conversation with him when another boy came in. He, too, had black hair, but his fell just past his long, pale chin in greasy locks. He walked with a slump characteristic of those I had often seen as adults who had gone nowhere in life. He went and sat immediately with the red haired girl and they began to talk. His voice grated on my nerves as he began to drawl. I could see no life in him at all, not even in the words he spoke.

"You'd better be in Slytherin," he told his red-haired friend.

"Slytherin?" I asked, suddenly interested. They both turned to look at me. "Who's want to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" I gestured to the boy sitting opposite me, who slumped back in his chair.

"My whole family have been in Slytherin," he said.

"Blimey!" I replied, immediately annoyed that I wouldn't be able to be friends with this one. "And I thought you were one of the good ones!"

A smile broke the boys sullen expression. "Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you going, if you've got the choice?"

I lifted an imaginary sword in the air, like some kind of shining knight. "_Gryffindor, where dwell the brave of heart! _Like my dad," I looked over to see if my flexed muscles had stirred any emotion in the girl. She looked unimpressed; so did her little companion. He gave a little 'huh'.

"Got a problem with that?" I asked, riled up, dropping my invisible weapon.

"No," he jeered, "if you'd rather be brawny than brainy..."

"Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" the boy opposite me shot at him. I was immediately impressed by the wicked speed with which he managed to snap back. I howled with laughter. The girl stood up haughtily.

"Come on, Severus, let's go find another compartment." she said loftily.

"Oooooh," me and the other boy taunted. I stuck my foot out as the boy called Severus passed, but he simply stepped over it.

"See ya, Snivellus!" I called as he disappeared. When the door closed, me and the other boy collapsed into fits of laughter. When finally we stilled, he stuck out his hand.

"Sirius Black," he said, proudly, shaking my hand firmly.

"James Potter," I replied. He sat back and clapped his hands together, rubbing them with a look of pleasure on his face.

"You looking forward to Hogwarts?" he asked, staring out the window at the fleeting scenery.

"Am I ever. A whole school with no parents, just magic, girls and plenty of rules to bend." I winked at him mischievously.

"I like you, Potter." said Sirius, stretching out to be more comfortable in his chair.

"You too, Black," I said in return. We laughed an joked all the way to Hogwarts, practically brothers by the time the train arrived.

"Firs' yers this way!" ushered a giant as all the Hogwarts students milled out around him, lugging trunks and all manner of animals. "Firs' yers this way!"

The first years all bunched up as the giant led the way, opposite to the way all the other students were going. I dragged Sirius to the front of the throng, and we walked beside the mammoth of a man.

"You two gettin' along all right?" he asked, looking down at us over his scruffy beard.

"Very well indeed," I said charmingly.

"Excited 'bout yer firs' year at Hogwarts?"

"Really excited," nodded Sirius beside me.

"What're yer names then?" he asked, friendly, as we trudged towards a great black mass I assumed to be a lake in the quickly fading light.

"I'm James Potter, this is Sirius Black," I said. The giant harrumphed.

"I see you've met my cousin, Bellatrix," Sirius said.

"I have, she's a bad 'un. Like yer whole family is."

"Agreed," said Sirius gravely. We walked in silence for a moment while the giant pondered what he said, and then he shrugged and stuck out his enormous hand.

"Rubeus Hagrid," he said as we each took a massive finger and shook it, "Hogwarts game-keeper. If yer real lucky, I'll even let ye call me Hagrid," he chortled and then stopped. We had arrived at the edge of the lake, where several boats with single lit lanterns awaited to take us to our final destination. We could all see it from where we stood, lights flickering some distance away.

We all clambered up into the boats, me and Sirius in the one at the head with Hagrid, the girl from the train and two other boys. There hadn't been any space for Severus as we dumped all our luggage in the middle. I flashed an evil smile at him and shuffled closer to the girl. He glowered at me.

"And what's yer name?" Hagrid was asking her.

"Lily Evans," she replied sweetly.

"And you?" he asked the other two who until this point had remained silent. One of the boys, who had been reading, took off his glasses and sighed.

"I suppose I would never have been able to read in this light anyway," he muttered. "I'm Remus Lupin."

"And I'm Peter, Peter Pettigrew," piped up the boy beside him. I looked at him. He was a small boy with rat-like features. He looked around himself wondrously, and beamed at everybody, as if trying to get them to like him. I knew his type, easily impressionable and willing to do anything in the name of acceptance. He would do finely as a companion.

We arrived finally at the foot of the beautiful Hogwarts castle, magnificently lit against the black evening sky. We dumped our bags in a large untidy pile at the entrance and marched up the stairs. We were greeted at the top by a middle aged witch, wearing formal black robes, a witches hat and glasses perched at the end of her nose. Her face looked somewhat aged and her frame was slight.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, I am Professor McGonagall" she said, pleased, looking down at the swarm of nervous first years. "You are soon to all follow your fellow pupils into the Great Hall, where you will be able to sit and dine with them, but first, you must be sorted. The four houses of Hogwarts are named after her founders, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin." a buzz of whispers began as the students discussed the houses they were hoping to be placed in. McGonagall hushed them. "Now, for those of you who don't know, the sorting is very simple. You will all walk in pairs to the end of the hall, where you will then line up. I will call out your names one by one, and you will sit on the stool. I will place the sorting hat on your head and it will call out your house. You can then join on that house's table. Ok, ready?"

As she said the final words, the doors in front of us began to swing open, and we could finally see the great hall in view. As we walked in, I heard gasps and whispers from behind me, all of us gazing in awe at the ceiling, enchanted to look like the night sky. Around us, candles hung in mid air as we shuffled in between two long tables. There were five tables in total, the four house tables and the staff table at the end of the hall. Sirius nudged me and tipped his chin over to the Slytherin table on the left side of the room, gesturing to a girl with wild black hair who was cackling hysterically.

"That's my cousin Bella," he said apprehensively. "If I'm not sorted into Slytherin, she'll tell my whole family."

"Well let's hope for the best," I said, fingers crossed.

"Yeah, Gryffindor," he agreed, grinning.

We lined up in front of the stool McGonagall had talked about, and one by one she placed a hat on our heads. Sirius was one of the first, and immediately declared a Gryffindor. The hat itself chuckled. "This is going to cause quite a stir," it said.

Sirius was joined by Lily, then Remus, then Peter and finally me. We all sat at the Gryffindor table as I watched Lily's face as Severus was sorted into Slytherin, monitoring the look of disappointment.

"Fancy this, eh?" I said, looking over.

"What?" she asked dismissively.

"The two of us being in Gryffindor."

"What of it?" she snapped. I was stunned by her contempt towards me. Surely she couldn't really care for that slimy git?

"Just proves we both have excellent characters," I said, flashing a smile, trying to melt the cold shoulder she was blatantly shoving in my face.

"One of us has an excellent character." she said condescendingly, clearly not meaning me. Then, she turned away, so I gave up. The sorting was wrapped up, and the entire hall hushed as Albus Dumbledore, the Hogwarts head master, stood up to speak.

"I will not keep you for long, only to welcome those of you who are new to the school to Hogwarts," there was a round of applause. "I wish you all very good luck for the oncoming years, and I offer you a warning, should you wish to accept it. We, here at Hogwarts, do not accept the darkness some of you see rising around you," he was referring to Voldemort, a wizard reported to have killed a few muggle borns for purely that reason. "I would like to inform you all that we do not stand for such behaviour here at Hogwarts. You may all be tempted by the dark magic, it might seem attractive and powerful to some of you," he glanced over at the Slytherin table, "but it is unacceptable. I also urge you all to be serious in your studies. Those of you who are will become great witches and wizards, as I am sure all of you have the potential to be. And so, with no more ado, I would like to welcome you to feast. Dinner is served."

He raised his right hand and clicked, and suddenly dinner appeared on the table, a large feast of just about everything one could think of. I ate and laughed with Sirius, Remus and Peter until my stomach hurt, knowing that these were going to be the best years of our lives.

_**A/N: Thanks for reading, please REVIEW and keep me motivated!**_


	2. Who are your Little Friends?

When dinner was finished, we retired to our bedrooms, led by the two red-haired Gryffindor prefects, Arthur Weasely and Molly Prewett. We followed them excitedly up the many confusing moving staircases to one of Hogwarts' many turrets, where we found ourselves in front of a portrait of a very heavy woman. She was holding a violin in her hand and seemed to be attempting to tune it. A man from a portrait a little way down from hers was shouting at her.

"Too sharp... no still too sharp... you're making the note higher, you want it lower!... twist the other way, _the other way!_"

"Hehhem," coughed Arthur. The fat lady stopped what she was doing and, noticing the crowd that had gathered, put the violin down, folding her hands in her lap and waiting expectantly. "The password," he announced, "is E flat."

The fat lady smiled and allowed her frame to swing open, revealing the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. We all crammed through the hole in the wall into the large, round room and looked around. From tall windows hung heavy scarlet draperies and the other sides were covered by tapestries, with the exception of the large fireplace and the notice board. The room was filled with plush red arm chairs and low tables, and seemed to glow a warm red-orange by the light of the fire.

The boys were led by Arthur up another flight of- stationary- stairs to our dormitories. We reached a large round landing, which was not covered by walls but numbered doors. Arthur read off names in rapid succession in correlation with numbers and we all went in to our dorms. I found my roommates were the three boys I had laughed with at dinner that night, and we all went in and claimed our beds, ignoring our trunks at the door.

"I've got this one!" I yelled, throwing myself onto the four-poster bed at the far end. I looked up to see Peter standing disappointedly beside it. "Uh... sorry Peter,"

"Sorry for what? I was just about to suggest it for you, James," Peter said, managing a weak smile. I flashed one back at him. He practically hyperventilated. He was already wrapped around my little finger.

"For God's sake, James, stop smiling at him or you'll give him a heart attack," said Remus rolling his eyes, dragging his trunk to the foot of his bed and opening it, opening a drawer as well. He stared at it intently, one hand stroking his chin, his other on his wand, wavering in mid air.

"Remus, if you're going to ask it on a date, you'd better do it already," said Sirius. I laughed, and of course, so did Peter.

"No," he said, agitated, "I wonder if this charm will work, I was reading about it on the train."

"What, like a magical way to unpack?" I asked, interested.

"I suppose so. Ok, I'm going to try it."

With a swish and flick motion of his wand, he muttered the incantation _Wingardium Leviosa,_ and waited, but nothing happened. He frowned and tried again, but still nothing.

"What, pray tell, is _supposed _to happen, Remus?" asked Sirius.

"It should levitate," he said, annoyed.

"Here, let me try," I said, standing and walking over, drawing out my own wand. "_Wingardium Leviosa._" At my command, the clothes rose out of the air and neatly into Remus' open drawer. Peter laughed hysterically and clapped his hands. I gave a mock bow.

"You're huge brain is over-thinking it," I said to Remus, who looked annoyed. "Just try again with your mind clear and focused." He took a deep breath and held it, raising his wand to try again. "I said _focused, _not constipated. Oh, do breathe for God's sake. Good, now, really relaxed, do it again."

Remus did the spell and, just as before, his clothes flew over to their place in the drawer.

Soon, we were all trying it, entranced by our first piece of magic. I ended up doing Peter's, having to listen to his unbearable shrieks and rounds of applause as I quickly finished it up. Finally unpacked, showered, and ready for bed, we fell back exhausted and all found ourselves quickly asleep.

The next morning, after a hearty breakfast, we commenced our wizarding studies with potions, which we had with the Hufflepuffs. I immediately slid in next to Lily, who turned away with her arms crossed, refusing to look at me.

"What's the matter, Evans? Missing Snivellus already?"

"Shut up about Severus, Potter," she snapped at me, her back still turned. "You wouldn't know the first thing about being a decent guy."

"What do you know?" I asked, rumpling my hair a little bit. She didn't answer, so I turned away, noticing Professor Slughorn enter the room.

"Welcome, welcome to potions!" he said enthusiastically, clapping his hands together with delight. "I am so glad we can all embark on this wonderful journey together! I see you are already in pairs, brilliant, these will be your partners for the rest of the year, so learn to live with each other," he winked. I looked over at Lily. She was fuming.

"Now," continued Slughorn, "We will begin this year with an easy potion, if you could all pull out your textbooks and find page thirty two, you will all be making a Giggle Philtre. I must advise you all to do exactly as the textbook instructs, or the potion's vapour may have an undesired effect on you."

We began the Giggle Philtre quickly, grabbing what we needed in pairs from the supply closet. Lily snatched up her textbook and marched towards the supply closet.

"Essence of Pygmy Puff..." she read off, looking for it and spotting it on a high shelf. She reached for it in vain, unable to stretch herself far enough. I took a few steps closer to her and reached over her petite body, grabbing the small glass vial and handing it to her.

"I've got that for you, Evans," as she met my eye I smiled charmingly, but she humphed, pushed past me and walked back to her cauldron.

I followed behind her, still grinning, but she barely acknowledged me further, so I began to mix the ingredients for the potion.

As it turned out, potions were not my strong suit, but I tried my best to make up for my mistakes.

"Dammit!" I exclaimed, adding in a fourth drop of Essence of Pygmy Puff, although the required amount was only two. Lily peered suspiciously over her cauldron at my potion, which was not the joyful pink hers was, but an oozing dark green.

"You've put too much Pygmy Puff," she said simply.

"Thanks for letting me know," I replied, annoyed.

"Here," she began, pointing at the piece of bark from a yew tree. "A few shavings of this balances it out." I took my knife and the bark and began to do as she said, trying to cut off hunks from the bark.

"Not like that," Lily said, exasperated, "like this," she put her hands over mine and guided them with the right knife-strokes so that they only shaved off delicate bits, my potion turning back to the pink colour Lily's was. Something in me jolted as I realised she was holding my hand. Immediately uncomfortable because of how good it felt, I looked over, grinning.

"Enjoying this?" I asked, trying not to sound hopeful. It had the right affect. She immediately snatched her hand away and her cheeks went a violent red. Her eyes narrowed.

"You're a pig, you know that?"

"That's why you love me," I said, chuckling as I returned to my caldron, which was practically unsalvageable, despite Lily's tip. Lily snorted.

"I do _not _love you."

"Oh, right, I forgot, you love _Snivellus_,"

"Don't call him that!" she snapped, accidentally ripping off a large slab of bark into her potion, which began to make a fizzing noise.

"By Merlin, that boy is such a drip! Why do you like him anyway?"

"You don't even _know _him!" she squeaked, infuriated. I snickered. Her cheeks went a deep scarlet with anger.

"What the devil are you LAUGHING about?"

"You're cute when you're angry." I said simply. She stared at me stunned, open mouthed, as if I had just committed the worst sin there is, so I simply turned back to my cauldron and tried to finish my potion. At some point, Lily turned to do the same. We didn't speak again all lesson.

"Well, _that _was a nightmare," said Sirius as we handed in our vials of potion and strode out of the dungeons.

"I think I did rather well," disagreed Remus, straightening his tie.

"Hey, where's Peter?" I asked, feeling somewhat lost without the proper audience to laugh when I told my jokes or simply applaud everything I did.

"His Giggle Philtre was a nightmare. He's gone to the infirmary laughing like an idiot."

"Doesn't he always?"

"That's what we tried to tell Slughorn," Sirius said. The three of us began to laugh, making our way to what I would find to be my favorite lesson. Defence Against the Dark Arts.

We wondered into the half-full classroom, all the Gryffindors having finished up potions early, but the Slytherins still in Herbology. We quickly took our places on a row of three desks set together, wondering why they had all been pushed to the sides to leave a large clearing in the middle.

"Probably for you, Remus," Sirius speculated, "so that you can go up there and dance." I chortled. Remus sighed, drawing out his textbook and beginning to read, glasses sitting comfortably on the end of his nose.

At that point, the Slytherins entered, marching into the classroom all at once. I recognised a few of them from the train or the boats with Hagrid. There was one in particular, a sour faced boy with an arrogant air and long, blonde hair. Behind him, I spotted my favorite little target.

"Over there," I said, nudging Sirius. He looked in the direction I was tipping my chin at and also caught sight of him.

"Hello, Snivellus," he announced, across the room. "Who are your little friends?"

"No friends of yours, Black," said the blonde haired boy, sauntering over.

"And who are you?" asked Sirius, unfazed by the boy towering over him, not even bothering to stand up. The boy seemed annoyed at the question, as if his identity was common knowledge.

"I," he began, "am Lucius Malfoy."

We waited. He said nothing more than that, he just stood ramrod straight, as if waiting for a round of applause or something.

"And...?" asked Sirius eventually.

Malfoy, looking somewhat unsettled, smoothed down his hair and robes, and re-adjusted his malicious expression.

"_And _I know all about _you, _Sirius Black, the biggest blood traitor ever known, a shame to the house of Black and all other Slytherins, including your ancestor, Phineas Nigellus Black, former head master. What do you say to that?" he spat.

Sirius clapped his hands in mock applause. "Did you perform this background check for everybody, or am I just special?" he asked, winking. The boy looked outraged, unable to form words, he stomped back to his group of friends who offered condolences.

I high-fived Sirius and Remus slapped him on the back.

"I don't think I've ever met a more insufferable human being in my life," Remus noted, frowning over at him.

"Agreed," I said. Perhaps with the exception of Severus Snape.

Then entered our Professor. He walked in proudly, the door slamming behind him and causing the classroom to hush. He wore a dark green robe under which protruded shiny black shoes, and when he turned to face the class, I saw reflected in his face all that I wanted to become.

Professor Spriteworth was young for a typical Hogwarts professor. He was thirty seven at the most, and handsome with a strong build, angular features, messy copper-coloured hair and wise blue eyes. He examined the pupils through round spectacles with look of wisdom few men of his age could pull off.

"Welcome to you all to Defence Against the Dark Arts. I imagine for some of you, this will be your most exciting class, probably with your favorite teacher," he gave a self confident wink. Half of the girls swooned. I rumpled my hair. "Nonetheless, for some of you this lesson will be something of a nightmare. You will find it hard to perform spells properly, and a trip or two to the infirmary will not be unexpected. However, I implore you to persevere. It is likely to get better. Now, you will all have noticed that I have pushed all the tables to the edge of the room. I like that you all took the initiative to sit behind them, but we will not be sitting during these lessons. So, everybody, stand up!"

We all got to our feet, stepping out from behind the desks into the clearing in the centre of the room. My group exchanged looks, all approving. It seems so was the rest of the class.

"Now, I want you all to partner up, we will be practicing a simple disarming charm. _Expelliarmus!_" he yelled suddenly, and Malfoy's wand went whizzing out of his hand and in to Spriteworth's. Malfoy was fuming.

The rest of the lesson was spent disarming each other and, when we got bored, disarming Malfoy and his groupies from across the room, confusing them all very much.


	3. First Flight

We had spent a full month in Hogwarts when it first happened, not that I knew what it was for the first year.

Remus had been shifty all day, refusing to meet my or anybody else's eye. His face had gone very pale, and he looked like he needed to go to the infirmary.

"Are you Ok, Remus?" I asked, but he said nothing. "Remus! Will you please look at me and tell me that you're Ok? Otherwise you leave me with no choice but to set Madam Pomfrey on you."

Remus looked up at me, finally, with wide, terrified eyes.

"I-I'm fine, James," he said unconvincingly, giving me a thumbs up as if to prove it and managing a weak smile.

"You aren't. What's wrong?" asked Sirius, peering closer at him.

"I'll be fine," Remus insisted. "This happens to me a lot. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go see Professor Slughorn about my essay." With that, Remus shoved past us and down the corridor towards the dungeons.

"Look at that, Potter, not even your friends want to be with you." said a snarling voice behind us. I turned around to find Severus, teeth bared, holding himself to his spot. This would be a good way to cheer myself up.

"I could say the same thing about your little Evans, really likes spending time with me in potions," I said, idly bringing my fingertips to my lips and cracking a cruel smile.

"Don't you dare." he said gravely.

"That a threat, is it?" I taunted, pulling out my wand and playing with it.

"It might be," he said, whipping his wand out and pointing it at me. His mouth opened as he began to hex me.

"_Expelliarmus_," I said, lazily, and his wand flew out of his own hand and in to mine. His pale face went an odd pink, probably his best attempt at anger.

"Oh, Snivellus, don't be upset. You gave it your best try, maybe next time," I said, throwing his back his wand and forcing my hand into his disgustingly greasy head to ruffle his hair, walking away. He stood frozen, dumbstruck in the corridor. Peter and Sirius followed me, laughing.

"I think I'm going to need to disinfect this hand," I said seriously.

"Did we have a Potions essay?" asked Peter.

"Oh, keep up, Peter. Where else would Remus have gone?" I said, annoyed. Peter looked down at the ground ashamedly. And then, I realised he was right. We had not received an essay for potions, so where on earth had Remus gone?

He was not in any of the lessons the following day, and nowhere when we got in bed that night. I stared outside my window that night and wondered where he could be, staring up at the majestic full moon.

He returned the next day tight lipped but altogether back to normal. Peter giggled jovially at his triumphant return, but Sirius and I remained skeptical. It came to be a regular occurrence, but he said nothing, so neither did we.

As first years, the workload had not yet become too intense, but still Flying lessons came as a relief every week. It wasn't that I was a bad student or that I found things hard, but there was nothing like the feeling of soaring through the air at terrifying speeds.

Our first lesson was amazing. We all gathered on the green lawns of Hogwarts with our Cleansweep 170's and stood in a straight line, shoulder to shoulder, facing our teacher, Sir Aeroson. He was a middle aged man with thinning, wild hair that always looked as if he had just dismounted a broom. His clothes were rarely anything but shabby, and he held himself in a hunched over position, as if at any moment a bludger were to come and hit him out of nowhere.

"Alright, class, settle down now," he said, placing him own broom on the grass and motioning for us to do the same. We all did.

"Good, now, stick your hand over your broom and say 'UP'." As he did so, his broom shot up into his hand. We all eagerly did the same. In rapid succession mine, then Sirius' then Remus' brooms flew up into our hands, but down the line some kids were having trouble. Peter, for example, was furiously squeaking, "Up, UP!" but nothing happened. Lily had just plain given up, and stooped over and picked up the broom herself.

I peered further down the line. A large, brutish looking boy was on his hands and knees with a wand, making it appear to Malfoy that he had in fact summoned his own broom, when it was all his henchman's doing. Severus, all the way down at the end of the line, had summoned his broom just as easily as I had. I frowned. There was no way I would let the little prig get the better of me in this. Before even instructed to do so, I swung my legs over my broom and kicked off as I had seen other Quidditch players do, feeling the ground fall away from beneath my feet.

I heard a gasp from the ground below as other students down below pointed up in awe of what I'd done.

"Mr Potter! Come down here at once!" squealed Sir Aeroson. I ignored him, clasping the handle of my broom tightly in hand hands. I drove the broom forwards, leaning down to force it to accelerate. I closed my eyes against the wind that began to batter me as my speed increased, suddenly jerking my broom up and causing myself to shoot high into the air. I carried on upwards then back around, completing a full loop. I heard amazed shouts from below. Give the crowd what they want, I thought as I abruptly pointed the nose of my broom down, corkscrewing straight towards Malfoy who screamed and hid behind his mammoth friend, I was almost upon them when I pulled back up, my ankle brushing against Malfoy's long, blonde hair.

It was then that I realised I was not alone.

Severus had followed me up, swiftly curving in front of me. I ducked under him immediately, swinging the broom back around and flying circles around him. Frustrated, he pulled up and immediately back down, speeding towards me head on. I hovered, suspended in mid air. He continued to gain momentum, head down, broom going at its fastest, daring me to move. I stood my ground until, at the very last moment I surprised him, ducking. Snape, who had been about to pull up, was confused and lost him control, colliding with an unfortunately tall tree and hurtling towards the ground, the Cleansweep discarded.

I watched him plummet back to Earth and hung for a moment, wondering just how hard it would be for Madam Pomfrey to fix. After half a second, my moral compass took over and I shot after him, snatching him up by the back of his collar and slowing down, landing softly on the ground and depositing him on the grass.

We were immediately swamped by concerned students and a very nervous flying instructor.

"Severus! Sev, are you all right?" asked Lily, running forwards and launching herself into his arms.

"I'm fine, Lily," he panted.

"Don't worry, Evans, I saved your little boyfriend for you." I said, winking. She glared at me. I didn't have time to care, as soon a hundred different people were upon me, shouting all kinds of praise;

"Brilliant, James, brilliant!"

"Where did you learn to fly like that?"

"The way you saved him was so... hot."

"That was immature of you, James," said Remus, seriously. Peter nodded, agreeing with him.

"Oh, lighten up Remus, it was amazing! Did you see Snivellus' face?" Peter suddenly changed his attitude, beaming at me with earnest eyes.

"Come on Remus, it was fun!" I said, trying to coax a smile out of him. His face was static. "Did you see Malfoy run behind that colossal friend of his when he thought I was going to hit him?" I asked, grinning. After a few seconds, Remus' face broke into a smile.

"He squealed like a little girl," he said, and we all laughed.

Christmas was almost upon us, and snow had begun to fall in thick white flakes outside the castle. Nonetheless, for some reason I didn't quite understand, I insisted that we go outside and help Hagrid pull in the twelve Christmas trees into the great hall. With two to a tree except for in Hagrid's case, we eventually did it, panting at our efforts.

"Well done, well done boys!" cried Professor Flitwick from the other end of the room, the semi-goblin man tottering over to us. "Perhaps you would like a little reward, hmm? How about you help me decorate the trees?" Flitwick pulled out from behind him a small cardboard box, too small certainly to fit Christmas decorations for twelve large trees.

"Uh, no thanks, Professor," began Sirius, breathing heavily.

"Oh, don't worry, you won't be alone!" he said, tutting and smiling. He pointed over to a group of girls who had just entered the room. Lily was among them.

"We'll do it," I said, the rest of them suddenly nodding. We took the box and carried it to the girls, setting it down. When we opened it, we found that it had been charmed, and was actually a cavernous space filled to the absolute brim with red, blue, yellow and green baubles.

Four girls and four boys, we all partnered up and took a tree. I, of course, took Lily and began to levitate the baubles, sending them up the height of the tree. We didn't speak for a while, but when I looked over at Lily, she was stretching her small self as far as she could go to put the next bauble up a little higher. Levitation was second year magic.

"Hey, Evans," I said, and she turned around. "Do you want me to... uh... show you how to do this?" I immediately bit my knuckles, as if wanting to retract what I had just said, hoping that she saw the gesture as me not wanting to offend.

"Um, Ok," she said, drawing out her wand.

"Swish and flick," I began, showing her the wand motion that went with the spell. She imitated me. "And at the same time, say the incantation _Wingardium Leviosa_,"

Lily swished, flicked and said the incantation, but nothing happened. She tried again, but still could not do it. I decided to pretend not to have seen until she did it correctly, and just assume that she could, but after a few tries she still wasn't getting it.

"You're flicking wrong," I said from behind a yellow bauble that was hanging suspended right in front of my face. I swung it up hastily, placing it mid-way up the tree.

"I'm _what?_" asked Lily, exasperated.

"Do it again," I said, watching her hand, and she swished and-

"No, that was wrong again, here let me show you," I closed the gap between us and placed my hand on hers, ignoring the flip my heart did. I mimed the flick motion, my palm leading her through it. Not once did I look at her beautiful green eyes.

"_Wingardium Leviosa,_" she said, and gasped as a red bauble rose into the air. "Thank you!" she said, throwing her arms around me an hugging me. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack.

She pulled away suddenly, as if just remembering who I was. She looked away, embarrassed, and I said nothing as I began to lay the tinsel. We finished our other two trees and left without saying goodbye, but that night I dreamt of that hug.

When Christmas eve arrived, we already one man down. Remus had stuttered something about going to see his ill mother while hastily packing his trunk. Today, the Hogwarts express would be taking most of the students home for the holidays.

While walking through the corridors that day, Sirius was stopped by his cousin that he had pointed out to me once. The girl with the wild hair and equally wild eyes. She grabbed Sirius' arm and pulled him up to face her.

"Look here, Sirius, I know how Aunty and Uncle took your getting into Gryffindor. Nonetheless, we are very much expecting to see you at Christmas dinner tonight. Understand?"

"Get _off _me, Bella!" Sirius said, wrenching his arm away. Bellatrix patted down her robes, stuck her nose high in the air and strutted off, her message conveyed.

"What was that?" I asked.

"That was Bellatrix playing devil's advocate. My family wants me home for Christmas. That means cousin Narcissa and my suck up brother will be there, not to mention her."

"Are you going then?"

"Well, my parents want me to, so I suppose not!" He grinned. Then his face fell. "Don't know what I'm gonna do though."

"Stay here!" I said, an idea dawning on me. "C'mon, you and me alone, we could explore the castle fully! Who knows what we'll find? My parents are in Italy anyway."

"I don't need any convincing, I'm in." I grinned.

"James! James!" I heard from behind me. I turned to see Peter running towards us. "I've got to go home, but I'll write to you over Christmas!" he said eagerly, then he handed a crumpled up present. I opened it, finding a squashed chocolate frog inside, a leg broken off so that it just squirmed in its case.

"Uh, thanks Peter," I said awkwardly, having nothing to give him in return.

"Ok, Merry Christmas!" he said, and bounded off to join the flood of students leaving the school.

Two down, two left. Me and Sirius would be alone for Christmas


	4. Merry Christmas, Here's to Invisibility!

Christmas Eve was surreal. Hogwarts castle was practically empty, most of the school having gone home for the holidays. Sirius and I entered the Great Hall to find the house tables pushed to the side, and the centre of the the room dominated by the teacher's table. On it sat Professors Slughorn, McGonagall, Spriteworth, Flitwick and Sprout, as well as Sir Aeroson. In the middle of them all sat Professor Dumbledore.

Opposite the teachers sat some nervous students. There were two Ravenclaw fifth years, a Hufflepuff third year and her first year sister with whom I had Herbology, three Gryffindor sixth years and, at the very end of the table, Severus. He turned to look at me with evil, defiant eyes. I swore to myself I would beat every bit of rebellion out of them by the time I left.

"Come in, boys, come in!" exclaimed Dumbledore, spotting us at the doorway, contemplating whether or not it was too late to run. "I like to make a habit of having Christmas dinner altogether with the students and teachers integrated, seeing as there are so few of us. Sit down!"

It seemed that everybody had shuffled over so that we would be sitting directly opposite Dumbledore, the most uncomfortable position possible.

Dinner was served with little ado, and we all immediately tucked in, hoping that the awkwardness would subside when it was impossible to talk with food in our mouths, however, the silence that remained uninterrupted except for the occasional scrape for a knife against a plate was somewhat worse.

When everybody had finished eating, Dumbledore pulled out from under the table a bunch of Christmas crackers.

"Here everyone, take on end... James, you take the end of mine... altogether now!" There was a thunderous noise of nine crackers tore through the room and for a moment, the fireworks blinded everyone. I got the larger end of mine, and pulled out from it a large witch's hat which I handed to Dumbledore as a commiseration prize, and a book.

_The Life and Defeat of Gellert Grindelwald: A Great Victory! _was the title of the small, leather bound book that had rolled into my lap. Sirius was glaring darkly at his prize, a large picture mapping all the Hogwarts headmasters to date, the face of Phineas Nigellus circled. I figured that the crackers adapted to have something to do with either one of the competitors.

"What did you get?" asked Dumbledore excitedly. I held up the book. A strange emotion came over Dumbledore's face. It was not the smile characteristic of a man who rid the world of one evil, it was instead a look of remorse and deep sorrow. He took the book with glistening eyes and thumbed the picture of a young Gellert Grindelwald on the cover, posing for his Durmstrang school photo.

"What's wrong, Professor?" I asked.

"Wrong?" he asked, as if only just remembering where he was. I gestured to the book in his hands. "Oh, yes, just... um... reminiscing. I knew Gellert Grindelwald once."

"I imagine you did, Sir," I said. Everybody knew Dumbledore was the one to put him in prison not too long ago.

"No, not like that. We spent a summer together as boys. He was very... powerful. It was in a little place called Godric's Hollow, I wonder, James, if you might have heard of it?"

"I don't believe so, Sir," I said.

"Well, you should visit it one day. It is a lovely little hamlet. Quite a place to call home. You know, I once remember..."

Dumbledore told stories for the next few hours until well past midnight, of his own life and the many lives of his friends whose names he never mentioned. The teachers yawned and one by one excused themselves, Dumbledore barely pausing mid-sentence to grunt good night. I listened, enthralled by his words, as the rest of the students dropped off as well, Sirius finally rubbing his eyes and yawning, clapping me on the back and leaving as well.

Most of the candles had gone out, a few floating around me and Dumbledore as I was wrapped in his words, each sentence filling every bit of my consciousness. We moved on from stories to discussion, and argued for eons about nothing in particular. We found ourselves in agreement over most topics, laughing and joking when we did, and clashed on some views, when the mood would grown sombre and heavy. The enchanted ceiling was growing lighter above us.

"I daresay James, I have never had such conversations with a Hogwarts student before!" he clapped his hands in delight. "I remember being no more than a first year myself when I spent a night like this with Professor Dippet, my headmaster. I sense there is much ahead for you." I beamed.

"However, there is something else that I have seen in you. Something... familiar about you. Power. It lies somewhere deep inside you, too deep for you to reach, but you feel it like a hollow. And you want it. I must warn you, James, those who strive for it often lose." He held my gaze in the flickering candlelight, a glint catching his brilliant blue eyes. His words hung above us in the air, delicately wavering, and then he clapped his hands again and they were gone. "And with that, dear boy, I retire to bed. Merry Christmas!"

He stood up and walked out of the hall as if it were any time of the day and not three in the morning. Exhausted, I dragged my body up to the Gryffindor tower- suddenly realising that Hogwarts was home to far too many staircases- and flung myself into bed.

Sleep came easily, but was taken too quickly away.

"James! JAMES! Wake up, will you?" Sirius, completely unaware or uncaring of the hour I had slept at, was jumping on my bed with childish excitement. "Merry Christmas!" he exclaimed gleefully as I sat up, rubbing my eyes and yawning repeatedly.

I threw myself to the foot of my bed, where many crudely wrapped, slightly battered Christmas presents lay, somewhat worse for wear from their flight to Hogwarts. Sirius sat opposite me, at the foot of his bed. He, too, was surrounded with presents.

We eagerly began to unwrap our trove of gifts. Immediately, we opened Peter's, which was rather obvious, a glaring mess of bright red wrapping paper and Spellotape. Sirius and I both received the same present from Peter. It was a framed photo taken a short while ago of the four of us together, laughing and teasing each other. Peter had written 'best friends' at the bottom of both. I put mine on my bedside table, knowing he would be happy to see it there when he returned.

Remus' gift, which was much neater, was next. From the clean cut corners and density, it was clear immediately that he had sent us each a book. I sighed, unwrapping the book, wondering what he was trying to teach me about with this one. What I saw, however, was not the expected copy of a History of Magic textbook, but instead a new book entitled _'Best Brooms Through the Ages and the Wizards Who Flew Them'_. The last page had been left blank, but Remus had stuck in a picture of me. I smiled, looking up to see Sirius grinning, holding a copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_.

"At least he knows us," he said. I nodded, and watched as Sirius picked out another present. Mine. I retrieved my present and opened the one Sirius had bought me. This was, of course, unnecessary, as we had both gotten each other the same thing ages ago. Nonetheless, we went through many different layers of wrapping paper to get to them. The gift was in the wrapping, which we had each charmed without the other knowing, making it nearly impossible to actually get to the object in the middle.

Sirius was still trying to rip open my third layer, which was re-growing itself every time he tore a new part, when I wrestled away his final layer which had lunged with shiny silver hands that had wrung my neck. Nestled in the middle sat a mirror. A two way mirror to be exact. Sirius took his out too, and we tested them.

"Sirius Black," I said, and saw the view from Sirius' mirror in mine. "This will be great in detention." I said.

We had left the presents from our families until last. We each had only one. Sirius opened his first, somewhat surprised to be holding the squashy, light parcel in his hands.

"Mighty decent of them to send me a present, my rebelling and all..." he said, an eyebrow raised. He opened it and plucked out a cruelly chosen present. He dropped it immediately as he saw it, disgusted by the sight of it. It wafted delicately to the floor, and I stooped to pick it up. It was a green and silver Slytherin scarf.

"Apparently not," I said, leaving it on the floor.

Finally, we looked to my final present. It, too, was squashy, but much bigger and heavier. We opened it to find a cloak I had seen once before. It was large, much larger then me and Sirius combined. It was also not particularly nice, not something I would wear normally. But I knew it was not to wear to a party. It was far more important.

Once, when I was younger, I saw the cloak lying on a chair in my father's chair. Intrigued, I walked over to it and reached out to ouch it. Right before I could, my father walked in a batted my hand away. He told me the cloak was special, it had been in the family for generations. He also told me that one day, when I was old enough, he would pass it down to me. Apparently that day had come.

I donned the cloak in a jeering fashion, sauntering around the room, doing myself Malfoy impression. When I spun around to see what Sirius thought, he was staring at me dumbstruck.

"James... Where's the rest of your body?" That was a ridiculous question, I thought. And yet, when I looked down, my body was gone. I reached a hand down and felt the area where my legs should be. No, not gone, just invisible.

"This is going to come in useful," I said, taking off the cloak and folding it. An invisibility cloak.

_**A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry to be one of those annoying authors who gets on their hands and knees and slobbers at your feet, begging for reviews, but it really does keep me writing, so if you wouldn't mind... PLEASE REVIEW! :)**_


	5. What I Erised

Strangely enough, Sirius and I worked for the first few days of the holidays. During the day, we would finish off all the essays that might be a hinderance to any mischief making we chose to do. It was the nights when we would do the things one would expect us to do.

At eight o'clock every night, just when curfew fell and we were no longer allowed to be out of bed, Sirius and I would slip under the cloak and creep out into the darkness, wanting to explore every inch of the castle.

"I mean, it's a castle, right?" asked Sirius, trying to get me to warm to the idea, "and all castles are built with secret passages and things, like the Chamber of Secrets! I bet you if we looked, we could find a couple of them!"

We had been looking for five nights now, pressing on various panels, looking behind paintings and tapestries, but with no such luck. No luck until we heard a teacher's footsteps and Sirius- freaking out- stumbled backwards, tripped, and fell back into a tapestry pulling me with him. However, instead of the expected crash as we hit out heads there was only a small shuffling as we both fell further and further backwards. The tapestry was covering some sort of tunnel that went downwards.

We slid quickly down the grimy walls of the tunnel, gaining momentum. The cloak dragged underneath us, collecting dust as it went. For a moment I wondered what the best way to clean it was. Then, we began to slow as the slide gradually flattened, and we ended up on a landing in pitch darkness.

"_Lumos,_" I said instinctively, light appearing from the end of my wand. Sirius did the same, and we stood up and inspected our surroundings. We were not on a landing but still in a tunnel, and as I sent out my orb of light from the end of my wand, there was no visible end in sight. Looking back, we saw the way in was just a chute leading upwards with no way to climb it. The only way out was forward.

We crept on through the tunnel, whispering.

"Where do you suppose it leads?" asked Sirius anxiously.

"The dungeons probably. That's the lowest floor in the castle. Maybe it's a way in to the Slytherin common room."

But it wasn't, because as we continued to walk the path rose slowly on a gentle hill, leading us very distinctively upwards. The ceiling above us became increasingly low as we walked until suddenly, the tunnel ended with just a wall.

"Well that's just great," began Sirius, looking around helplessly. "How are we ever supposed to get out of- Ow!" Sirius hit his head on the low ceiling hard, and something strange happened. The ceiling groaned and for a moment some light could be seen. "What was that?" asked Sirius, rubbing his injured head.

"I don't know," I replied, "move over and let me see." I felt above me with my hand, feeling a little indent in the ceiling that ran in a rectangular shape. I pushed on the centre of it and the same creaking was heard. I pushed harder and again there was some light streaming through the small crack. "It's a trapdoor!" I exclaimed, pushing it open fully and pulling myself out through it. Sirius followed after me and we both sat on the edge of it, drinking in the cool air around us.

We were in a large spacious room, which was completely empty save for a mirror that stood right in the middle.

"_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi,_" said Sirius, reading the inscription that ran atop of the mirrors golden, intricately designed frame. "Does that mean anything to you?" I shook my head.

"Probably some forgotten language," I said dismissively, moving towards the door of the room. Sirius, however, intrigued by the mirror, moved closer to it. He gave a little gasp.

"What? Scared of your own reflection? Now you know how we feel," I said jokingly, examining the lock on the door, which was currently proving itself a hinderance.

"No," said Sirius, stunned, "It's me and my family. All of us, and we all look so happy. We're all in Gryffindor scarves. My parents look so... proud. They only look at Regulus like that. Not me, not like they love me..." He was rambling under his breath. I looked back at him, seeing such longing in his eyes.

"What do you suppose this is, James?" he asked, trying to mask the emotion he had just let slip.

"I don't know, Sirius. Some kind of enchanted mirror,"

"But what do you think it's showing me? Do you think this is some kind of future?" he asked hopefully.

"Doubtful," I said, honestly. "Your whole family's already in Slytherin. It's unlikely that they'll all just change. You're just seeing what you want to see," I said. I walked over and stood beside him, clapping an apologetic hand on his shoulder, casting a glance into the mirror myself.

I did a double take.

"What is it James, what do you see?" asked Sirius, eager to see if there were any chance his hopes of it being some sort of divination device could be salvaged. But I dared not tell him what I saw. I knew he would laugh.

In the mirror I saw myself. But I was not alone. Beside me was Lily Evans, her arms flung around my neck, her lips on mine. My arms were holding her small waist to me, as if I were trying to merge her body into mine so that she could never leave me, so that we could be whole together. I watched with an almost unbearable, heart wrenching pain as Lily pulled away, a smile playing on her lips, and mouthed an unmistakable 'I love you,' on my mouth. Then she kissed me again.

I never realised how much I wanted to be _that _James. The James in the mirror who didn't need all the other girls around him. The James who was holding the right one in his arms. A spiteful reality hit me full on as I was pulled back to right after sorting.

"_Fancy this, eh?"_

"_What?" _

"_The two of us being in Gryffindor."_

"_What of it?" _

"_Just proves we both have excellent characters," _

"_One of us has an excellent character."_

She hated me.

"James? James? C'mon, what do you see?"

"I see me, holding the Quidditch House Cup. Maybe this thing does tell the future after all." I pulled my eyes away from the mirror and went back to the door again. Deciding rattling the handle would not be enough, I decided to try magic.

"_Alohamora,_" I said, and the door swung silently open. I ushered Sirius over and we both got under the cloak, stumbling our way back to the Gryffindor tower.

The rest of our searches for hidden passages remained fruitless, but Sirius insisted on returning to the room with the mirror. I refused, not wanting to be driven mad by the image of me, kissing a girl I could never have. Eventually, I lent him the cloak and let him go without me.

The holidays were over soon enough and Hogwarts was flooded with students once more. Remus arrived back first, having used side along apparation to get to the boundaries and then walking up to the castle. At least, that's what he said.

"So you lugged your trunk all the way up through all that countryside? Really?" asked Sirius skeptically. There were a lot of things Remus said that didn't add up.

Remus just nodded. We let it go and took him up to our dorm, where we showed him the cloak.

"An Invisibility Cloak!" he exclaimed, "James, do you have any idea how rare these are? And this one is of impeccable quality, especially seeing as your father has had it for years! Usually they wear out after that amount of time, this is quite the family heirloom!"

"I know," I said, taking it off.

"What are you going to do with it?" asked Remus. Sirius and I smiled, exchanging a mischievous look.

When Peter arrived, Sirius hurriedly put on the cloak while Remus and I ushered him upstairs.

"Where's Sirius?" he asked, looking around worriedly.

"He's... uh... in the Library," said Remus. I shot him a look. He shrugged, as if to say it was the best her could do. I rolled my eyes. He was a dreadful liar. All of this went unnoticed by Peter.

When we reached the room and Peter settled down, the show began

"Peter," came a rough, husky whisper. Peter's head spun round.

"What was that? What did you say?" he asked, looking over at me and Remus. We looked at him confused.

"Nothing, we didn't say anything Peter. Why?"

"Oh, nothing..." he said, nervously.

And then it came again.

"Peter,"

"What? What was that? Are you sure neither of you said anything?" we both shook our heads, suppressing giggles.

"Only you can hear me Peter. Nod if you understand." We waited tensely as Peter's face contorted with fear and then, slowly, he nodded.

"Good," said the disembodied voice, Peter having established it was not coming from either of us, the two of us pretending not to hear a sound. "Now, I want you to do as I say Peter. Stand."

Shaking, Peter stood.

"Now dance." Peter began to twist his body at awkward angles, an odd attempt at a dance with no rhythm. "We're going to have to teach you how to dance, mate," said Sirius, hiding under the cloak in his husky voice. I snorted, quickly pulling myself back together. Remus stood up and walked to the corner, shaking with laughter.

"Stop." commanded Sirius. "Now, bow to me." Peter looked utterly bewildered.

"W-What?" he asked out loud.

"Sh! C'mon, listen to my voice. Bow to me." Peter got down on his hands and knees and crawled around, finally falling with his head to the floor, shaking. We burst out laughing, all three of us, Sirius letting the cloak slip off, revealing himself to be many feet away from where Sirius was actually standing. Sirius walked over and got him to his feet, giving him a bear hug. We all surrounded him, laughing, him nervously tittering as well, but still quivering. Still, he smiled and showed no anger with us, joking about it himself, although Peter remained on edge for the next few weeks.

_**A/N: Just the usual, please review for me so that I keep writing!**_


	6. Blast Those Skrewts

During the nights, I was always haunted by the same dream. In it would be a laughing, smiling Lily Evans. She would beckon to me, the turn with a slow motion wave of crimson hair and run away. I would attempt to follow, stumbling over twigs and trunks on the rough ground below me, and look up to find her gone. And just like that she would reappear behind a tree. She would then disappear a few meters away, and reappear right behind me. Finally, she would hide behind a bush and not jump out again. When I would crawl over to look behind it, she would always be there. In _his _arms. Her beloved Snivellus.

I woke with a start, my hand clamped across my mouth to stop myself shouting obscene things. I looked around the moonlit room. Three snoring lumps rose and fell in their beds. I had not woken anybody up.

I checked my watch. It was five to three in the morning, and yet, I found myself not at all tired. So, I got up and swung on the cloak, deciding to have a stroll. I crept out of our room and out of the Gryffindor tower, past a the Fat Lady, mumbling in her sleep. I knew exactly where I was going. I was making the trip Sirius made relentlessly, to the room with the mirror.

"_Alohamora,_" I said, unlocking the door and opening it slowly, slipping in through the small gap I had allowed myself and closing the door softly on the other side. I slipped out of the cloak.

"Hello, James," said a soft voice behind me. I spun around immediately, my heart thudding violently.

"P-Professor Spriteworth!" I gasped, standing stark still, as if maybe then he wouldn't notice me. My Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was sitting crossed legged on the floor in front of the mirror, only his head turned to face me. He didn't look angry at me, simply content.

"You can calm down, James, I'm not going to expel you for this. That would include disclosing what I was doing in here as well. Please, do, sit." He said, patting the ground beside him. I walked over tentatively and sat down next to him, looking directly at the floor. "Why don't you look in the mirror, James?" he asked, studying me.

"I don't like what I see."

"Humph," said Spriteworth, bemused, "I think you'll find in this mirror you'll find exactly what you _want _to see."

"Yes, but what's the point of that if you can't have it?" I asked, somewhat louder and more forceful than I had intended.

"What do you see?" He asked, looking at me curiously. When I refused to answer, he sighed. "Miss Evans is indeed quite a young woman, you stare at her in my class more than the task at hand." he said. I frowned at him.

"Well, what do you see then?" I asked more rudely than necessary.

"To explain to you what this mirror shows me would take a lifetime. In a word, happiness."

"You aren't happy?" Professor Spriteworth did indeed seem the happiest teacher I had ever met.

"Not in the way I would like to be, James," he sighed, smiling sadly at me. "Quite in the way that you would be with your Miss Evans."

"Shut up about Lily," I mumbled, frustrated with the amount I wanted her.

"The curse of man, eh? Always wanting what we cannot have. Good night, James." Spriteworth stood and exited the room, waving at me. I lingered a little longer, staring at the girl wrapped in my reflection's arms.

I tried to put my embarrassing man-to-man chat with Spriteworth to the back of my head in Defence Against the Dark Arts the next day, not daring to look in Lily's direction. When now and then I would shoot a body bind curse at Peter, who was standing directly in front of her, he would fall backwards and- for a second- I would see her, fire in her eyes, hissing a malignant spell at Malfoy.

"All right, class, swap partners!" Spriteworth announced. Immediately I saw in front of me a new face. A Gryffindor girl.

"H-Hi James, I'm Sophia Woodspurt," she said, sticking out her hand awkwardly. I took it with a charming smile, peering over at Lily to see if she would notice.

"Care to partner up, Sophia?" I asked, winking. She giggled and took her stance, aiming a weak body bind curse at me. I felt it wrap around me meekly, like a loose sheet of cling film. I quickly broke out of it, stumbling backwards a bit. "You'll have to be a lot stronger than that to get me to the ground." I said with a cheeky smile.

"You'd be surprised how strong I am," she replied. I laughed, and saw in the corner of my eye Lily, rolling her eyes and sighing.

The next lesson was charms, which I walked Sophia to, people gossiping behind us. Let 'em talk, I thought, linking arms. This brought on a new frenzy of whispers. How do you like _that_, Evans?

"_Multicorfors,_" I said for the millionth time, jabbing my wand forcefully at a small mouse on the table. It squealed, but did not change colour as I had wanted it to. The ease with which I had picked up the levitation charm had gone. 'Momentary insanity', Remus had called it.

"You're supposed to turn it a different colour, not _kill _it!" said Remus, his ferret a gaudy orange.

"Red is a colour," I said, jabbing it again. I glared over at Lily, prefect little Lily, who was perfectly capably turning her gerbil green, then blue, then yellow. She wouldn't allow herself to be embarrassed as she had with me trying to put up the baubles. It was almost as if we had switched places.

"Flitwick alert!" hissed Peter, who with a tremendous gesture had finally turned his rat a glaring fuchsia. I looked to see the man with a notepad in his hand, marking down everybody's progress. He was nearing us as we spoke.

"_Multicorfors,_" whispered Sophia beside me, and my mouse turned lilac. I looked over and pulled the corner of my mouth up into a playful smile.

"Thanks," I said as deeply and sincerely as I could. Her cheeks went a deep crimson.

"Yes, yes. Well done, Mr Potter," said Professor Flitwick, moving quickly on. Beside me, Sophia snickered.

"What?" I asked.

"You're not as perfect as I thought you were," she mused.

I leaned into her ear, lips lost in her wavy brown hair. "I bet I'm pretty damn close." She lingered in the position a little while, both heads turned slightly into each others'. Then, she drew away, focusing on her rat. She chuckled softly under her breath.

"That you are."

I began to spend a lot of time with Sophia as the weeks went by, seeing how far I could push it without actually showing any romantic feelings. Really, I was just seeing if Lily would care. The boys welcomed her fully, and she would laugh jovially with all of us in many lessons. Even so, there was always a sense of boundaries. She was mine, and she would only hang out with them when I was present.

One day, when we were walking down the hall and giggling about Peeves, who was hassling Professor Binns incessantly, we were stopped.

"Got yourself a girlfriend, Potter?"

"Why? Jealous, Snivellus?" I asked, wand drawn.

"Of _her_?It takes more than your little mudblood girls to get _me _jealous." Beside me, Sophia gave a little squeak, and her hand flew to her heart. I stepped defensively in front of her, wand pointing directly into Severus' pale little face.

"Better be careful hanging out with that little Malfoy git, Snivellus. You're starting to sound like him." I said warning him, taking a step forward and twisting my wand threateningly.

"Better then those fools you hang out with," he retorted, drawing out his own wand.

"Watch that mouth of yours," I said, sending him a horn tongue hex. It hit him unexpectedly, and his tongue began to grow, you could see it bulging in his cheeks until it burst free from him lips, its ivory tip protruding out. He dropped his wand and began to feel at it, to squeeze it, as if to push it back into his mouth.

"Mr Potter!" I heard from behind me. Professor Spriteworth came storming in my direction.

Stunned, and with my wand still stretched out in my hand facing Severus, I stammered an excuse. "I was just... just protecting Sophia..."

"What, drawn and talk of peace?" he asked angrily, casting his head aside a moment to chuckle at his appropriate use of Shakespeare. "Detention, Mr Potter. Mr Snape, I suggest you go to Madame Pomfrey and get that seen to. I'm not quite sure it's supposed to grow to that size. Miss Woodspurt, would you accompany him?" Sophia smiled sweetly at him and then, with a farewell glance at me and clutching my hand for a second, she flounced off, gesturing for Severus to follow her. He kept his distance.

Spriteworth turned to me. "I am disappointed, James. I would have thought you were better than bullying."

"Apparently not." I grumbled.

"Indeed. In my office after dinner for the next fortnight. Is that understood?"

"The next _fortnight?_" I asked incredulously. "But Professor, I have homework!"

"Think about that next time you try to make a boy's tongue turn into a giant horn. And yes, a fortnight. I have a little project and I need a student's help. I liked you rather too much to charge you with such an arduous task, but now I suppose I have no choice. I will see you after dinner, Mr Potter." he walked off then, annoyed at me. I didn't really care whether he was annoyed or not. I was positively furious.

I went to Spriteworth's office that evening, grumbling all the way. When I got there, the door was locked. I pounded my fist against the hard wood.

"I'm here!" I said frustratedly. "Open up!"

The door swung open just enough to let me in, and then slammed when I had entered. I saw the floor around me lain with what looked like enlarged mouse traps. In the middle of the room stood eight or nine glass tanks, each containing a slimy, pale creature in them. Like a lobster without a shell, they had long bodies and legs sticking out at odd angles. Some had spikes growing out of their backs, others what looked like the beginnings of fangs. Every now and then, small bursts of fire would burst out of one of the ends- for there was no distinguishable head or tail- and propel them forward a bit. The room reeked of rotten fish.

"James, you've arrived!" said Spriteworth, as if I had come for tea and not a detention.

"What are these?" I asked, gesturing to the foul creatures.

"I call them 'Blast-Ended Skrewts," he said, "They're hybrids of Manticores and Fire Crabs. I think you'll find the result is somewhat remarkable. They develop shells which are impervious to most spells. I thought perhaps I could take the muggle idea of armour and develop a wizarding equivalent. However, the Ministry had sort of made these illegal, so if you would not mind not telling anybody?" I nodded. "Thank you, James."

And so we began to tend the Blast-Ended Skrewts together.

_**A/N: As was brought to my attention, I made some minor mistakes regarding the abilities of Lily and James Potter when it came to charms, so I have righted those wrongs. I would also like to strengthen James' relationship with Spriteworth, so I apologise if you aren't enjoying how heavily he is featuring. Thanks for reading and most of all reviewing, so keep it up! :)**_


	7. Rumour Has It

"James? James, are you listening to me?" asked Sophia in charms. I was not listening to her, but trying- and failing- to set one of Hogwarts' old textbooks on fire. Apparently, when they were all worn out past the point of magical repair, they would be collected and used for charms and transfiguration lessons. Today, I was working on _Marvellous Beasties: Care of Magical Creatures Handbook_. I had never had a Care of Magical Creatures lesson, but Professor Kettleburn had caught me setting off a Fabulous Firework Facade device (one of my own little contraptions designed to look like fireworks were exploding on a teacher's head) and gave me a detention.

None of this had anything to do with what Sophia was saying.

"James, you really _are _going to have to listen more in Charms, what with our end of year exams coming up," What? I looked outside the window and saw the sun shining, rays glancing off pollen and giving them a golden tint. Of course, it was May already, soon we would have to start learning.

"Soph, I don't think there's any way that I could ever learn this stuff," I said, giving up on the moulding book in front of me and watching Lily's from across the room, which was gently smouldering.

"I bet you can," she said, and then, she nervously took my hand. We had held hands a thousand times, but _I _had always taken _hers_, and it had never meant anything. This was different. "I could help... tutor you. You know, if you want..." she looked up at me hopefully. She wanted more than tutoring. I looked briefly over at Lily, who was staring at us as Sophia gazed hopefully into my face.

"O-of course, how about tomorrow in the library?" I asked, wincing a little.

"Great!" she exclaimed, and flung her arms around me. I hoped Lily saw us hugging, and then I tried to put her out of my mind and hugged Sophia tighter.

"You've got to stop messing her around," said Remus as Sophia bounded off to lunch with several of her giggling friends. "You know she likes you."

"Maybe I like her too," I said, indifferently.

"You don't act like it," agreed Sirius skeptically.

"Doesn't mean I don't," I said, furrowing my eyebrows. In truth, I was all too aware that they were right, and that casual hugs and hand holdings were being misconstrued.

"Then you'll probably end up snogging her whilst studying charms, eh?" asked Sirius, teasingly. I punched him lightly in the shoulder, becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Remus frowned at me. Peter seemed confused, still not being able to separate the banter from the serious conversation.

"It's not like that. You guys just don't understand," I said, trying to think of something else to move on to.

"I understand, James. You're just friends, right?"

"Exactly, Peter," I said, clapping him on the shoulder, "at least one of you understands." The other two cocked their eyebrows. I ignored them and kept on walking.

In fact, my friends were not the only ones to say that to me that day. To my surprise, I was snatched in the corridor by one Lily Evans, who pulled me into a corner and hissed at me.

"Look here, James Potter. Sophia is my friend, and I do not appreciate your entertaining her fantasies without any intention of returning her professions of admiration, do you understand? Do not go with her to study Charms or anything else for the matter until you have told her your feelings, do you understand?" Stricken by her forcefulness and fierce loyalty to her friends, I started at Lily dumbstruck. I quickly resumed my customary slightly amused expression.

"Jealous, Evans?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. She went red. Not the usual, blushing red I often saw in girls, but an angry, spluttering red.

"How DARE you assume that I like you? I have news for you, Potter. You aren't _actually _the apple of every girl's eye. There are _some _of us who detest you and everything you do. Especially when you _assume _that we are all your possessions and you can have us whenever you want! YOU DISGUST ME!" she shrieked, and stormed off. My eyes followed her bemused. All I could think about was why she didn't want me going out with Sophia, did she like me after all?

Of course, I took the words of my friends into consideration as a wondered whether I should go to the library or not the day after.

And then I remembered a fundamental rule of mine.

Nobody tells me what to do.

So with that in mind I strode with an unfaltering step to the library, where I found Sophia in a corner obscured from the sight of everyone. She sat with little square pieces of paper on her lap, cross legged on the floor. I squeezed in between the two bookshelves and took my place opposite her. She blushed as I sat down.

"Cozy isn't it?"

"The tables aren't ideal for this sort of thing. We're going to go over the Paper Manipulation charm, watch." she slowly began to move her wand, muttering the incantation. As she moved it, one of the paper squares she had on her lap followed the movements her wand made, folding itself over and over again. When finally she was done, it looked remarkably like a butterfly.

"_Animatus,_" she said, and the little paper butterfly suddenly stretched folded wings and took to the air, making the noise crunched paper did with each beat of its delicate wings. I stared at it entranced as it made its way right up to the tip of my nose and then fell into my hands, unwrapping itself.

It was exactly as I had feared. In the middle of the creased square that was formerly a butterfly lay a perfectly penned note.

_Kiss me._

I looked up at Sophia. She was not blushing, but waiting somewhat apprehensively. We locked eyes, and a wave of curiosity took over my senses as I leant in, wondering what it would feel like.

It was... odd. Sophia kissed me tentatively, just as nervous as I was, although I dared not show it. It wasn't the kind of kiss people wrote songs or sonnets about. I felt no exploding sparks nor did my heart beat twice as fast. It just felt like her lips were on mine, and mine were on hers. It was natural, plain either. Simply a kiss.

But we kissed more, and kept kissing until she got embarrassed and turned away, giggling a bit to herself. And then, she taught me the Paper Manipulation charm. By the end, I thought I had gotten it, but soon saw Sophia's wand subtly folding the paper for me as she pressed it against her lap. I pretended to ignore her, wanting to go back soon, feeling more awkward and distant having kissed her than before when she only _thought _I wanted to kiss her.

When I returned, I told no-one that we had kissed. If she wanted to tell, then news would be out by tomorrow, but somehow I felt like that kiss was private, like it was ours only, so I stayed tight lipped. I also wanted to avoid the dreaded I told you so.

Me and Sophia continued to 'study' for the next month and a bit, right up to the summer exams, yet our relationship stayed practically the same. When we were alone, there was a strange obligation to kiss, but when we were in class we acted as if nothing had happened at it, perhaps we only lessened our boundaries. She certainly giggled more in my company, and I in turn touched her more flirtily, finding reasons to touch her hair or her cheek. It was all for show though, a hollow relationship, moulded to look to the outsider without explicitly saying that we were together, when we were in fact practically just friends.

Being the first couple to have spawned of a long time in Hogwarts, Sophia and I were also the target of most gossip and rumours. People often crowded me to ask 'how far we had gone', and being severely disappointed when I wouldn't recount explicit details.

"James, James!" called a hufflepuff I had met once before. Her name was Eddie Sprouterblow, short for Edwina. We had herbology together, and we always called her 'Eddie the Sprout,' because of her uncommon talent in the subjects.

"What, Eddie?"

"Is it true? Is it true?" She asked, desperately.

"Is what true, Eddie?" I asked exasperated, quite tired of questions which started with 'is it true', because it rarely was.

"Is it true McGonagall caught you? Caught you and Sophia snogging in her classroom just before lessons began? That she gave you a detention?"

This was my least favorite rumour. Indeed, McGonagall had given me a detention, but that was for a series of missed and late- Ok mostly missed homeworks that I had failed to make up for. Nonetheless, people love to gossip. I sighed. This was my life now, huh


	8. With Two Hundred and Ninety Eight Points

End of year exams were upon us as the first year of Hogwarts began to drag to a close. The common room was suddenly a mad dash of students desperately trying to cram for the OWLs and NEWTs. The rest of us were somewhat more laid back than them. However, the way people reacted to their first ever wizarding exams fell in two main groups. The first was mine, relaxed. Who was going to look back at my first year exams for reference anyway? The other was the people acting as if they were their OWLs.

Part of the latter was Remus, who was currently sitting in the middle of a great pile of books, three open at the same time and furiously noting down important points on a rather wearied looking piece of parchment which looked on the point of collapse and was fast running out.

"You know, I don't think you're studying hard enough," scoffed Sirius from our place by the fire, Remus craned his head over the pile of books to look at us.

"_Maybe _if you three tried to study even a little bit, teachers wouldn't hate you as much,"

"I study _all _the time," I pointed out, winking at Sophia who was shifting uncomfortably next to me. I put a protective arm around her, wondering if she also felt the falseness that was tying my stomach in knots.

"Everybody knows you're not studying." Remus said, looking at me over his glasses, for a moment a striking mirror image of the look Dumbledore gave me on the many occasions I was sent to his office.

"I am studying," I said in a scandalised voice, a hand on my chest and my jaw fallen open to its very most in mock hurt. "In fact," I continued, taking Sophia's hand, "We're going to go study right now!"

And with that, I dragged Sophia off to the library. She said nothing against me, but she didn't say anything really, until we got into the library and resumed our corner.

"James..." she finally said, mustering up the courage, "I don't want to..."

"No, me neither," I said, smiling brightly at her, leaning in, "I actually need to study, I just didn't want those clowns seeing me do it. Show me the colour changing one again?"

And so, for the first time, I actually studied. We stayed in there for a while, inadvertently listening to the whispers around us, the gossip of what people supposed we were doing. I wondered what they would think if they knew we were practicing entry level Charms.

We moved on from Charms to Potion theory.

And then from Potions to basic Herbology.

And then History of Magic.

We stayed in the library for hours and hours, the rumours increasing in number and ridicule in direct correlation to the amount of time we spent in our corner. Finally, when the bell for seven o'clock rang and realising we had missed dinner, Sophia and I hurried back to our room.

That night, something strange happened. I didn't dream of Lily, I dreamt of Sophia.

And so the exams like a dark and dangerous fog descended on the first years. We battled through the long week of constant essays and wand movements and draughts of this and that with little respite save for eating and sleeping. It was grueling.

"I think my head might just explode," said Sirius as we stumbled, dazed, out of History of Magic. "Who knew Binns was actually _saying _things in those dull classes of his?"

"Suffice to say we all failed that one?" I asked, and Sirius and Peter nodded exhausted heads. Remus gave a nervous little cough.

"Except for you, Remus?"

"Well, I didn't find it too difficult,"

"Of course not."

"Hey, James! How'd you do?" asked Sophia, who came bounding up to her. I felt something stir in my chest at the sight of her, immediately on edge. I didn't want this, to feel something. Feelings can get hurt. Loving hearts are the weakest.

"Uh, terrible," I said, laughing weakly.

"I know! Even with all that... hehhem... studying," she rolled her eyes for the other's benefit, "I could only get like half the answers!"

"Tell me about it," I agreed, casually putting an arm around her, cursing that damned flip in my stomach. _Act natural_, I told myself, adamant not to betray my feelings.

As expected, Charms was an absolute failure. To my delight, the first task was levitation, which I did easily. Then, we moved on to animating a solid object. In front of me stood a jar of Sherbet Lemons, and I was expected to make it _do _something.

I looked across the room to see Lily's jar, which was shuffling jerkily forward and back, some kind of dancing, I think. Beside me, Sirius had just about managed to make his jar topple over, which Flitwick deemed acceptable and let him out. Soon, I was practically alone in the room with Malfoy's two goons, Crabbe and Goyle. You could just see them all in the future, their little sons running around and terrorising the rest of our children.

After a while, the two gave up, and I was left alone with Professor Flitwick.

"Perhaps," began the small man, waddling towards me, "If you were to focus on your studies a little more and a little less on your female friends, maybe you would excel more," He looked at me seriously.

"I apologise, Professor Flitwick, but I don't think there's much I can do to get better at Charms," I said, giving up and placing my wand on the table.

"I disagree. You are a skilled wizard, Mr Potter. I have heard from Professors McGonagall and Spriteworth that you are very good in their subjects. Charms is not all that different."

"If you say so, Professor," I said, and then, picking my wand back up, put the jar back on the shelf I had retrieved it from and left the room. So what if I failed Charms? Can't win 'em all!

Indeed, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts went much better. I managed first time to make my little perfume bottle sprout legs and peacock feathers, strutting in circles on my desk. When McGonagall came over to inspect it, it got scared and bristled its glorious feathers, probably earning me more points.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was a piece of cake. Professor Spriteworth let out a barrel of cornish pixies, telling us the one who collected the most would get the highest grade. I stunned every one that flew anywhere near me with excellent precision and aim.

"Well done, James," Spriteworth said under his breath as he counted my pixies, stacked high in my makeshift cage which consisted of a lot of piled up textbooks. I beamed at him, and he looked over at me for a second to give me a proud smile. "Ten points to Gryffindor, but don't tell anybody," he winked.

And so, with all exams done and dusted, the year began to draw to a close. The seventh years would drag their fingers along the walls, teary eyed, constantly hugging and saying with thick voices how much they would miss this place while first years chatted excitedly about their final release from school and their school holidays.

"Mummy and Daddy are taking me up to the Scotland to see my cousins!" squealed Peter, "We're going to go visit Nessie. My cousins said that they sometimes feed her when the muggles have all gone to bed!"

"Sounds fun, Peter," I said, smiling at him. "I'm going to Italy. My parents have some Ministry business to attend to there. Apparently the dragon trapped in Vesuvius is acting up." I said, rolling my eyes.

"Well your holidays sound bloody brilliant," said Sirius, crossing his arms. "I'm pretty sure my family is conferencing with Voldemort the whole summer. We're going to Albania or some ungodly place like that. What I would give to stay in England like you, Remus."

Remus nodded sympathetically, patting Sirius on the back.

"How about you come to Italy with us?" I asked casually, trying to keep back the smile that was creeping onto my face. I had written to my parents already, and they already had a room ready for him.

"Heh, thanks James, but I don't think that's gonna happen."

"Oh," I said, disappointedly drawing out a piece of parchment, "I suppose I'll have to write to my parents and tell them you don't want to come after all. Such a shame, they were so excited to meet you..."

"What?" asked Sirius, trying to hide his excitement lest I be joking.

"Well, I already told them you were coming," I said, finally allowing a massive smile to break on my face. Sirius didn't react for a second, as if having to let it sink in, and then he launched himself at me, knocking me to the ground in a massive bear hug. We laughed on the ground for a while, and then he pulled me up, with a sincere smile on his face.

"Cheers, mate," he said.

"That's what friends are for," I reminded him for.

And so, we packed up our bags and Sirius wrote to his parents that he was spending the summer with me. They replied less than kindly, telling him they didn't want him around anyway.

"Typical," he said, throwing the letter into the fire. It burnt with cracks and hisses of malice.

Our last night at Hogwarts was another great feast. Everybody sat in their years on their house tables, dressed in formal robes and hats. From the ceiling hung green, yellow, red and blue banners, until Dumbledore stood up in front of his podium and began to speak.

"Welcome, students, settle down now." There was a hush around the Great Hall as everybody turned to listen to the admired headmaster. "Well, it seems that we are at the end of another year of Hogwarts, for some of you, your final year." the opposite end of the table began a round of sad applause. "For the rest of you, I hope to see you next year, rearing and ready to go. Until then, I suppose it's time to announce the winners of the house cup! In fourth place, with two-hundred and five points, we have Hufflepuff." There was a grumble from the Hufflepuff table and a few stray claps. "Next, in third place with two-hundred and thirty two points, Slytherin!" again, more grumbling, but more applause that before. The air in the room tensed as it came down to it, Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. "Finally, in second place, with two-hundred and ninety eight points, Gryffindor!" he declared, and there was an eruption from the Ravenclaw table as Dumbledore announced them as this year's winner for the House Cup, with a flick of his wand the banners around the great hall all turning blue.

Commiserations were shared around our table as we all clapped each other on our backs, cheering anyway in good spirit. I felt slightly guilty as I saw the disappointed faces of some of my friends. It was probably my fault we had lost, as I had singlehandedly lost more points than anybody else that year. Still, people said nothing, and I felt myself allow the guilt to fade away into the smiles of the people around me, Arthur and Molly laughing anyway.

"We'll get 'em next year."

We ate and laughed until our stomachs were full and our throats could take no more Pumpkin Juice, and then we went to bed, smiling in our sleep.

The next day, we said our goodbyes and boarded the Hogwarts Express homebound, excited for the summer to come, waving at the Hogwarts castle as it quickly disappeared into the foggy distance.

_**A/N: And so the first year ends. Sorry to wrap that up so quickly, but nothing interesting happens in the first year, they just sort of meet. Anyhow, now that that's done with, we can get to the interesting stuff! Stay tuned, folks! As always, please review :**_


	9. And So Begins Another Year

The summer flew by on the wings of an overactive dragon stuck in the mountains of Pompeii. Sirius and my parents bonded to the point where he practically became their own son, and he had always felt like a brother to me. We spent our time in Italy mainly on two of my old broomsticks my father had retrieved from the attic, throwing a makeshift Quaffle between ourselves. Now and then, certain aurors we travelled with would join in, and we would have just about enough to play an almost proper game of Quidditch, save for the Snitch.

We kept up correspondence with Remus and Peter too, receiving a letter or postcard from Peter at least once a day, and essays from Remus less often. I also wrote to Sophia, finding in my rare moments of solitude that I was often thinking about her. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, I realised. Of course, it also meant that I now felt a burning hole where Lily would usually be.

I missed school more than I cared to admit. Of course, there is nothing like the freedom you feel on a broom with nothing but the wind at your feet and knowing that you have no obligations, but I also missed my friends and the whispers behind textbooks and the attention that I was always generously given by my fellow classmates.

That was why I was excited to already be back at King's Cross Station, walking confidently to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Sirius by my side, pushing our trunks and all manner of other bits and bobs in front of us, racing to see who could get there first.

I was distracted as Sirius careened on ahead by a flash of red hair in the corner of my eye. I slowed to a normal walking pace and swerved my trolley over, next to Lily Evans.

"Hey, Evans," I said, winking at her. She huffed, turning to the little girl next to her.

"That's him," she hissed.

"So you've told her about me, all good things I expect?" The little, sour faced girl turned her pinched face to me and glared with the same malice disobedience five year olds gave their struggling mothers.

Oh.

"Go away, James," she said, annoyed. "I didn't want to start the year annoyed at _you._"

"Why not?" I countered, "It's just how you'll continue the year," I smiled, but she shot a look of dangerous aggravation, so much so that I back away, seeing Snivellus veer his trolley over in our direction, giving me a threatening look. Not wanting to have to deal with him right now, I walked off, bidding Lily and the girl I assumed to be her little sister good day.

My mind was teeming with Lily Evans as I barely noticed my passing through the seemingly solid brick wall between platforms nine and ten. My memory had certainly not done her beauty justice. When I saw her now, I was reminded the depth of her eyes, the plump softness of her lips, the fire in her hair and her expression, of her magnificence. It made me piteous of Sophia, for such mediocrity could never gain the love I felt for the red haired girl.

As I boarded the train, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I turned to see her standing there. Sophia. My mind still riddled with Lily, I took her head in my hands and crashed my lips against hers, hoping to obliterate every tint of Lily from my senses, hungrily trying to draw from Sophia's lips anything that could fill the hole Lily so carelessly ignored.

"James," she said, laughing and pulling away from me. "I've missed you too," she giggled. I felt that I hadn't fully given her credit either. She too was very pretty. She had changed her hair, it was parted differently. It looked nice.

I drank her in. Sophia's eyes were so different. They laughed, they smiled at me, a promise of at least friendship. They showed me none of the detestation Lily's did. Her touch showed none of the repulsion. To me she was warm, not a fire but a gentle, unexceptional candle. It shone dimmer, but it couldn't burn as badly.

We found the carriage occupied by Sirius, who had already retrieved Remus, and sat down. When finally Peter, as one of the last ones on, came panting and flung himself down on the seat of the carriage, the train began to move and we were on our way to another year at Hogwarts.

"It was brilliant! James' parents took us to Rome for a few days, and we..." Sirius spent most of the journey talking about our holidays. It warmed my heart to hear him talk about it so happily. God knows that he would barely ever have experienced as much love as he did in that short two and a half months.

Again, when we arrived at the station, like before Hagrid stood on the platform.

"Firs' yers this way!" he ushered. But this time, that was not us. We followed the larger throng of students. Sirius threw his head back to look at the first years, craning his neck and standing on his tiptoes.

"What are you looking for, Sirius?" asked Peter.

"My brother, Regulus. He's supposed to be joining this year. He bragged about it in all of his letters to me." Sirius gave up his futile search and climbed in the the carriage pulled by... nothing, as far as I could tell. Sirius and I paid it no heed. It was magic, after all. Peter, however, seemed absolutely fascinated by the carriage. Remus was quite on the opposite end of the scale. He recoiled from the reigns resting on nothing, looking horrified at the thin air, but said nothing.

It was amusing to sit in the Great Hall and watch the first years walk nervously in, each taking their seat on the stool, trembling, listening to the Sorting Hat read out their innermost thoughts.

And then I realised just how _boring _it was. Did we really have to sit through this _every _year? No longer having to feel the apprehension of waiting for my name to be called, I was stuck listening to a never ending list of the names as the Hat took its time quartering them.

"Damn it," I heard from beside me.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Regulus is in Slytherin. I'm never going to hear the end of this. Look, he's over there now with cousin Bella and cousin Cissy, and that awful Malfoy kid. Blast, they're looking over here!" he averted his eyes.

I saw the small group shoot daggers in our direction. I shot them back, and then wrenched my eyes back to the sorting, forcing myself to look interested.

We ate and were merry, and then went to bed, tired after the long journey and ready for our first day of school tomorrow.

Our first lesson was a blessing to me, Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"Good morning, Professor Spriteworth!" I said jovially, striding into the classroom, one of the first in.

"Good morning, James, how were your holidays? Good, I trust?"

"Very," I said smiling.

"Do anything interesting?"

"I went to Italy," I told him, smiling. "Pompeii to be exact."

"_Pompeii?_ Well that is very interesting indeed! I'm sure you learnt a lot. The streets of Pompeii have many a story to tell,"

"As do their mountains."

"You saw Vesuvius!" he said excitedly, knowing full well that I meant the dragon, not the volcano. "Well, we really must catch up," he leant in so nobody else could hear what he had to say next. "Perhaps over the care of certain Blast-Ended creatures?"

I groaned internally. The last thing I wanted was to tend to those repulsive creatures again, but Spriteworth's earnest smile and friendly companionship made me smile against my own will and nod obligingly.

"Excellent!" he said, and with that started the lesson.

And so life returned to normal with little contestation. The talk of summer holidays quickly died down and once again the students flocked like pigeons to the closest scrap of gossip which, to my utter disappointment, was not me. Indeed, the new school year had brought with it the gift of new pairings. The spotlight was immediately shifted from me and Sophia to the new hopefuls, and finally we could relax.

Autumn was bitterly cold, throwing harsh wind into our faces, biting our cheeks raw. Therefore, the warm common room fire was always crowded around. So, after a grueling few minutes fighting our way back from the Herbology greenhouses, we didn't go to the common room at all, but instead, Sophia and crept into the empty divination classroom, lined with cushions, and sat down. Sophia drew out her wand and an old to do list and burnt it in front of us, and as she laid her head in my lap we watched it burn together, enjoying the peace.

With a hand rested on Sophia's arm and the other running my fingers delicately through her soft hair, I began to read the slowly smouldering words.

_Remember: Quidditch trails in three weeks._

I didn't need to read that to know when the Quidditch trails were, they were burned into my brain the very second they were announced, when I took immediately to tending to my broom, polishing the shaft and especially the handle, smoothing out the hastily etched 'JAMES' which I wrote on it as a child, trimming the twigs to end at a perfect point, making it extremely aerodynamic.

Every other day for the first few weeks, Sirius and I went out and threw a Quaffle between each other. Although he did not match my superb athletic reflexes, he was a decent match, and by now, the day before the trails, I felt very confident.

"What are you thinking about?" Sophia asked idly.

"Quidditch," I replied.

"Oh? What about it?"

"I think I'm going to try out this year." I said, still gazing at the last remaining embers of our little campfire.

"Well, I think that's a great idea. My James, the Quidditch player."

But I was not Sophia's James, but I wasn't going to tell her that. Besides, 'James, the Quidditch player', it sounded pretty good, didn't it?

_**A/N: Thanks for reading folks, another filler chapter, but some Quidditch action coming up! Also some Snivellus action for which I apologise because I hate writing it just as much as you hate James being a little twirp. Anyway, I live for your reviews!**_


	10. Ten Points to Gryffindor

Quidditch trials, though exciting, did mean getting up at five in the morning the next day- a Saturday- to join the other twenty hopefuls in the freezing cold. In the stands sat scatters of other supportive friends, wrapped in many more layers and probably warming themselves with a multitude of charms. I wished I too had that luxury as I stood knock-kneed in the cold wearing only a thin jumper and a pair of tracksuit-bottoms.

I jogged on the spot as Felix Browning, the Gryffindor Quidditch team captain, walked out onto the pitch, seemingly impervious to the cold. As he strode over, a few of the older boys serenaded him with booming, mocking tones. He smiled and laughed with them in good fun as he imitated a majestic and airy wave, collapsing into laughter. I smiled, looking around me to find not the rivalry I was prepared for but instead an encouraging friendship.

"My fellow Gryffindors, welcome!" he said, raising his arms to accept the half hearted cheer of people reluctant to remove their arms from their positions wrapped around their quivering bodies. "You are all here to compete for a chance to play- and win- for Gryffindor. However, only six of you will be granted that luxury, so I want to see the best you've got and then some, Ok? My name, for those who don't know it, is Felix. You may have heard of me, people have probably called me a git some time or another. That's because I am one. I will do anything to make this team great, and that means no slacking. Any of you who can't handle that are free to leave now."

No one left, but a nervous air descended on us all.

"It also means that just because you were in the team last year, doesn't mean that the same can be said now." The older members of the crowd nodded understandingly. "Any questions?" No questions, questions meant letting a bit of warm air escape your body. "Alright, then in the air, the lot of you!"

Twenty brooms began their ascent, the cold morning air whipping around us. Despite this, I felt the familiar rush of flight, and was instantly enjoying myself, taking two lazy laps around the pitch before Felix rose up into the middle of us and held up a hand, stopping us all as we formed a circle around him.

He separated us into two teams, teams A and B. "I want to see team A first." he said, raising a Quaffle in his hand. "I want you to try keeper," he said, pointing at a girl who sped off in the direction of the goalposts. "and you three are chasers," he said, pointing to me and two others. "You three are opposing chasers," he said, "we're playing five-a-side, and that makes you keeper and you two seeker and snitch. For you, the snitch, give her hell, alright?" The boy playing the 'snitch' zoomed off, and the girl trying for Seeker hung in the air, allowing him time to lose himself before she would hunt him down.

"Alright," he said, as we took our positions. "On three, one, two..." he blew a whistle for three, throwing up the Quaffle.

It was snatched by a member of the opposing team, who held it into her chest and shot towards the goalposts. I immediately sped after her, and my other teammate flanked her on the other side. We stayed there until she began to feel the pressure and threw the Quaffle behind her, at which point I lifted myself a bit off my broom and grabbed it from the air, making a sharp turn and rocketing back towards our goalposts.

I felt the scorned chaser from the other team already hot on my tails and found another chaser free, throwing the Quaffle to him with a perfectly angled throw. I heard a faint whistle from Felix's direction. Ignoring it, I hurtled forward, freeing myself from the marking of another chaser by deftly ducking and skillfully raising myself again, catching the Quaffle that was speeding towards me, finding myself at the goalposts already. I mimed throwing the ball to the right, where the unsuspecting keeper threw herself, leaving the middle goalpost open for me to give the ball an arrogant, languid toss. The Quaffle made slow-motion arc and dropped through the goalpost, a cheer erupting from behind me.

"Ten points to Gryffindor and the crowd goes wild," I uttered to myself, whirling back round and assuming our starting position.

Felix blew the whistle again. One of my teammates grasped the Quaffle and threw it instinctively at me. I passed it forward where the other boy was waiting, and we passed it between ourselves right up to the goalpost. The boy threw the Quaffle in a rushed and careless manner, and the Keeper easily batted it away. I dove and caught it again, throwing it into the goalpost farthest from the Keeper, who had only enough time to watch it graze her fingertips before it went through. Twenty points.

On the third whistle, the other team grabbed the Quaffle, and I hung back, waiting for the ball to be intercepted where I would be here, waiting to score, following slowly a little distance away. However, it seemed that I was more depended upon then I had imagined, and at the only available moment to seize the Quaffle, one of the boys sped up and made a clumsy and futile grab, and wavering on his broom and for a second when it looked like he was about to fall. When he regained his balance, it was too late, and the other team had already scored.

At that moment, I suppose the Seeker must have caught the Snitch, as Felix blew the whistle and team B began their match. Felix watched intensely, and I watched his lips fluttering, following the match as if he were commentating. When their game was finished and the sun began to peek out from behind the clouds, and Felix gathered us again.

"I have narrowed it down, and now want to see a few of you individually, for the rest of you, my condolences and most sincere apologies. You all played great games, and should be proud of yourselves. Nonetheless, I'm only allowed six of you."

Felix began to list the people he wanted to see play further, of which I was one, and the rest slumped off, dejected.

Felix began the tryouts for the Keepers first, cruelly throwing Quaffle after Quaffle at nervous beginners, some of whom simply gave up, floating to the ground and taking their leave. All except the Keeper for the previous year, Bella Spruce, who masterfully fended off every one.

The Chasers were next and Felix himself played as Keeper. I watched as many of the candidates struggled to get the ball past him, even some of his old teammates, until finally it was my turn. We started off with a few catches, Felix throwing the ball in odd angles at blistering speeds which caused my hands to sting upon impact, but they still caught every one. And then, it was time to score against him.

He had already watched me before and knew my strategy, not falling for my first attempt to fake left and throw it in the right. But then I noticed something, something that had been creeping in my mind as I had watched him. He always stopped the balls at a higher position against the goalpost, leaving most of the bottom exposed.

I began aiming low as well as faking, and then varying it, aiming low, then high, then low again. With each goal I grew more and more confident, playing games with him. I would fake four, maybe five times before throwing into the third goalpost I had made no attempt at. Felix only smiled at me, but said nothing.

I left after that, too tired to stay and watch the beater and seeker trails.

The moment I got back inside, I flung my shirt off and grabbed my bathrobe, taking off various items of clothing as I went and forcing myself under the freezing shower, trying to wash away the nervous cold sweat and layer of grime that the early morning tryout at left on me. I scrubbed away at myself until I finally felt better and awake, and then got dressed into a pair of jeans and a thick woolen jumper to go and meet up with my friends.

But I didn't get the the Great Hall to see if they were already eating lunch, as in the hallway I found Severus. With a newfound humorous attitude, I strolled up to him.

"Hello, Snivellus," I said to him, a wicked smile playing on my lips. He stared back at me defiantly.

"What do you want, you little git?" he snarled.

"Now, now, we've talked about language, haven't we?" I asked, drawing my wand in a threatening motion, pacing slowly towards him.

"Git," he said again, slowly, his wand in his own hand. We stood a metre apart and held our wands in the silence, until Severus played his hand. "_Langlock!_" he cried.

"_Protego!_" I yelled, deflecting the hex. "Somebody's been busy. Making up our own hexes are we Snivellus?" Severus just continued to stare.

"_Steleus,_" I sent to Severus, who was unprepared and began to sneeze violently. While he was distracted, I also performed a knee-reversal hex which he was too occupied to deflect, and his sneezes stopped abruptly as he stared down at his legs horrified, his knees disappearing and reappearing on the reverse side. "_Petrificus Totalus,_" I finally declared, and Severus' whole body snapped into a stark upright position and fell backward, his eyes flitting around terrified.

"Whoever finds you," I began, leaning down into his frozen face, "had better not know who did this," I said warningly, and then left the boy with reversed knees to be found.

I carried on walking to lunch, but was halted again. This time, it was by Spriteworth, who stuck his head out of his classroom as I passed.

"James! I was hoping you'd come by, I'm tending to the Skrewts." I tried to protest, to explain that I wasn't stopping by as much as I was walking past. But, as before, I couldn't seem to find it in my heart to turn down his excited smile.

The skrewts had grown rapidly over the summer. They were each ten feet long and lived in individual containers which were probably jinxed so they couldn't get out. They all had developed an ashen armour on their backs, and deadly stingers that ran maliciously down their spines. Their legs no longer stuck out at odd angles but now sat uniformly at either side of their bodies, though completely useless. They still required the small blast to move.

Spriteworth led me enthusiastically to the biggest one, and showed me with a series of hexes how their shells were impervious to each one.

"And just look how _big _they are! I bet we could make five suits of armour with all this! Or maybe just vests instead, like the muggle police force have!" Spriteworth went on and on about his ingenious creation. When finally he was done, we began to feed them in a welcome silence.

"So how was Pompeii?" he asked when we finished and sat together, crossed legged as we had done in front of the mirror, surrounded by the skrewts.

"Interesting," I said, not quite knowing what he wanted me to tell him.

"Lots of werewolves in Italy," he remarked, guarding my reaction closely.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Werewolves, half man, half wolf? Change at the full moon? Funny, I thought you would have known more about them."

"I don't know what you mean by that." I replied. He looked at me skeptically, and then decided that I really didn't and leant back.

"Interesting creatures, werewolves," he remarked to no-one in particular. "They will only attack humans. If they were to come across a stag for example, they wouldn't do anything to harm it." I nodded, barely listening, staring out of the window and listening to the grumbling of my demanding stomach.


	11. Of Quidditch and Kerfuffles

The list went up for the Quidditch team the next day, and I awoke early again and waited in the common room for Felix to bring it down and post it on the notice board with a few other hopefuls.

"Up early, aren't we?" asked Felix, walking in, the list clutched in his left hand. I strained my eyes trying to catch a glimpse of the names scratched in his messy handwriting. We all watched as Felix made his way slowly over to the notice board, making sure not to look at any one of us, maybe as if trying to not give anything away. Maybe because he didn't want to look into the faces of the people he was about to let down.

I felt apprehension creep up on me, fanning my pulse to flare a little higher. My hands began to tremble. So what? I tried to tell myself. Did being in the Quidditch team really mean that much to me? I knew immediately that it did. It meant more to me than anything. Being in the Quidditch team was like an affirmation. It meant that I was skilled, that I was talented, that I was _worth _something. Without it, I was just a jerk who lost Gryffindor the house cup last year.

I closed my eyes and forced myself to draw in deep breaths. Felix continued to walk, practically in slow motion, to the notice board. He finally reached it, raising his hand. We rose with it, eyeing him as he stuck it up with Spellotape, fleeing the room as we all clustered around to see.

I walked more slowly than the others, feeling my heart pump so loud in my ears it drowned out any other noise. In front of me mute mouths congratulated and comiserated, silent hugs exchanged. Inaudible hands ushered me over, patting me on the back. With blank eyes I stared at the list.

_Keeper: Bella Spruce_

_Beater: Dominic Perkins_

_Beater: Felix Browning_

_Chaser: Elise StClaire_

_Chaser: Michael Nixon_

_Chaser: James Potter_

_Seeker: Melissa Miller_

At first, I scanned the list with disappointment, unable to recognize my own name. And then, I did a double take. Suddenly, colour and sound were restored to the world. I had the feeling of breaking water. There it was! My name! I, James Potter, was a Gryffindor chaser! Suddenly the congratulations washed over me like a wave, people shaking my hand and offering words of encouragement.

"You did it, James, you did it!" squeaked Peter, who had just come scurrying down the stairs to see the list.

"Well done, James!" exclaimed Sirius and Remus together, as the three of them trapped me in a bear hug. They held together as I wrestled my way out, my strenuous effort pulling us all to the ground in fits of rioutous laughter.

"We'll be looking forward to seeing you on the pitch, James," said Elise StClaire, a fellow chaser who was doing her OWLs this year.

"Yeah, with us three on a team, Slytherin won't even know what hit them!" said Michael Nixon, the other chaser in his fourth year. I smiled widely at them both, giddy with excitement.

On the way to breakfast, I was stopped by many people who offered me compliments and best wishes for the season ahead. As we walked past her office, Professor McGonagall popped her head out and called me inside.

"So, Potter, I hear you're the new Gryffindor chaser?" she asked.

"I am indeed, Professor," I replied proudly. She leant in, an absolutely sincere expression on her face. I wondered if I had done something wrong.

"Thrash Slytherin this year, won't you?" she asked, winking at me and then dismissing me from her office.

My victory, I found, was short lived. I hadn't realised the rigorous regime Felix was about to set up for us.

"This year," he began on our very first, five o'clock on a monday morning practice session, "We are going to win. And I don't just mean the games against Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw or even against Slytherin. I mean the finals. I mean the Cup. That means that we will be up four mornings a week at five am with extra long practices on weekends. Trips to Hogsmeade will be cut short, family functions will be postponed, all work will be done in the evenings. You will all learn to juggle your social lives, school lives and Quidditch. If not, there's the door."

The room was mainly silent, apart from a few chuckles from the older kids in the back who were all friends with Felix and had been in the team since they were my age, along with Felix.

"Dom, do you have something to say?" asked Felix, unimpressed.

"No, Sir, nothing at all, Sir," he said, standing stark straight and saluting before sitting down, causing the previously tense air to dissolve into laughter. Felix, who was struggling to hold his serious expression, finally gave up and chuckled along, before raising a hand to stop us again.

"Alright, alright, we've all had our fun. Now, it's time to work. Do you all want to see Slytherin crushed?"

"Sir, yes, Sir!" replied Dominic in a loud voice.

"Do you want to beat them for everything their worth?"

"Sir, yes, Sir!" we all returned, joining in with him.

"Do we want to tear the Quidditch Cup from their undeserving hands?"

"SIR, YES, SIR!"

"Then get out there and get practicing!" he yelled, and with uninhibited cheer we all charged out of the changing room and onto the pitch, kicking off into the air.

Two hours later, the euphoria had quite died away and had left nought but exhaustion. Every muscle in my bones ached as I dismounted and hurried to the showers and changed into my robes, scurrying over to Potions and praying I wouldn't be late.

"Just in time, Mr Potter! Come in, come in," ushered Professor Slughorn as I arrived, panting, at the door.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor," I said, bowing my head and slipping in next to Sophia, who had saved me a place.

"On the contrary, Mr Potter, you were cutting 'just on time', just try to be a bit earlier in the future, eh?" I nodded gratefully, pulling out my textbook, hastily pulling out my cauldron to begin the Swelling Solution.

The Swelling Solution was not one of my finer moments, I'll admit. Whilst fumbling to gather up all my spilled puffer fish eyes back into the jar, I accidentally knocked it to the side, where it went flying, splashing over my arm and hitting Sophia square in the face.

Both of us began to swell uncontrollably, and I felt with horror the skin on my arm pulling as if being pumped too full of air. Sophia could barely see any more, her marshmallow cheeks completely concealing her vision. But our skin just kept on growing to accomodate it. There was something wrong with my potion, I realised. We were supposed to be stopping, or at least _slowing, _but our limbs continued to grow.

Professor Slughorn scurried over with a Deflating Draught, trying desperately to force open Sophia's swollen lips to push some of the liquid down her whilst I downed an entire vial, gagging at the taste.

But we kept growing, the Deflating Draught merely pausing it for a minute before wearing off. Slughorn looked at us hopelessly. How much could I have messed this potion up?

But, we were soon to be rescued by the most unlikely hero.

"Professor, how about you try more Blackwood Root?" asked a painfully monotonous voice. "It will balance out the clear over-use of the Puffer Fish Eyes. It should also compensate for the skin growth."

"An excellent suggestion, Mr Snape! I rather wish I had thought of it myself." Professor Slughorn disappeared for a moment into the store-cupboard and emerged with the Blackwood Root in his hand. He forced a few shavings down Sophia's bulging throat, who immediately deflated back to normal again, and then put a few in my gargantuan hand. Reluctant simply because it had been bloody Severus' idea, I forced myself to swallow them. My arm went back to normal as I felt the Draught course through my veins, sucking the air from any unnecessary places.

"Thank you, Severus," said Sophia, cordially, though she still hadn't forgotten the mudblood comment he had made about her last year.

"Yes," I forced out, furious at the position he was putting me in, convinced somehow that this had all been his fault. "Thank you." he nodded smugly. I would beat that smug expression off his face if it was the last thing I did.

"That was humiliating," I muttered through clenched teeth as we left the classroom.

"I thought it was rather funny," said Sophia cheerily, nudging me and urging me to smile. I couldn't. All I could think about was Severus. How did he know about the Blackwood Root anyway? The little prig had been planning this, I was sure of it.

I was still sure of it a few weeks later, when once again I had spilled another faulty concoction, and like a little angel Snivellus waltzed in and saved the day.

"I think you're overreacting, James," said Remus as I vented to him. He was looking a bit peaky again, like he sometimes did. I wondered if it was time for another mysterious trip to who knows where.

"I am not! He planned it all, I swear! Think about it, really, has Snivellus ever been good at anything?"

"In all fairness, we did have Potions with the HufflePuffs last year. Severus might have been good at it without us realising it." said Remus, wearily.

"Why are you so defensive on his behalf?" I asked testily, annoyed enough.

"I don't have the energy for this, James," he replied, yawning. His face had- if it were possible- gone paler. Although it was still early, he announced, "I'm going to bed."

Remus mounted the stairs towards the boy's dormitories. Rather fatigued myself after the taxing combination of Snivellus, Potions fiascos and the first Quidditch match against Ravenclaw tomorrow, I jotted down a brisk and vague conclusion to my Transfiguration essay and followed him up.

That night, with Snivellus on the brain and apprehensive about the upcoming match, I couldn't sleep. I just watched the rising moon from my bed. And then, I heard a rustling from Remus' corner of the room.

I poked my head out to see Remus, hurriedly creeping out of the room, and I knew immeadiately what was going on. He was going to wherever he went all those nights. I knew immediately what I had to do, and the moment he had left the room I snatched my invisibility cloak and followed him out into the dark corridor


	12. Furry Little Problem

I followed Remus through the silent corridors of Hogwarts, watching him turn his head nervously from side to side. He would creep like a thief through the darkened passages of Hogwarts, but when he came past a patrolling teacher, he would give a respectful nod, and they would return it. What he didn't see was the knot that would appear in their foreheads when he wasn't looking, the piteous glance they would cast over their shoulders. I didn't understand. Why was he acting nervous when he wasn't afraid of teachers? And why did they all look like that at him?

Remus headed right to the doors of Hogwarts, where he was met by Madam Pomfrey. She greeted him like an old friend with a smile and a small hug. Then, she pulled a vial out from one of her many pockets in her nightgown.

"Some of Slughorn's special stuff," she said, in a way that would have been patronising if it hadn't been said with so much warmth. Remus took it gratefully and downed it in one go, wincing at the taste. Then, they continued out the castle, and towards the Whomping Willow.

I held back, watching as Remus neared the plant cautiously, Madam Pomfrey at his side. The tree began to sway its branches, irritated. I flinched, but Remus stood his ground, still moving further towards it. With a kindness I had rarely seen from him, Remus pressed a comforting hand against one of the tree's knots, and it stilled. Then swung himself down a pit and was gone, Madam Pomfrey turning back and walking exhaustedly past where I stood. She paused for a moment, looking directly at me, and then shrugged and kept walking.

I ran towards the tree, confused. Where had he gone? Suddenly, I heard a crack and felt a twig scrape past my arm, the Willow having nearly hit me square in the face. I ducked another attack from the other side, and watched as again a branch above me began to descend at a frightening speed. I lunged forward but lost my footing and felt something like my ankle being pulled down into deep darkness. Air was ripped from my lungs as I plummeted downwards, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

A little way in front of me, Remus, wand lit, turned around. I froze, clapping a hand over my mouth so he couldn't hear me breathing. He flashed his wand over to where I stood but, seeing nothing, turned back around and carried on. I followed.

We walked for a short while when we began to ascend what seemed like a hill, and finally emerged into a dank, dusty room. Remus staggered through it, his joints clicking as he did, into the next room over. I followed a little way, and then bunched myself up in a corner where the wall and doorpost of the first room met, watching Remus from a distance.

The walk to this place had taken its toll on him. His walk, usually upright and proud, was hunched over, his shoulders constantly contorting. He snarled, a noise I had never heard a human make before, and tore his shirt from his body, followed by his trousers, as if they were obstructive. I gasped.

I realised that I had never, until that moment, seen Remus in anything but his robes, or trousers and a jumper before. The only skin I ever saw was on his face and hands, and even then he often kept his sleeves up to his knuckles. Now, I knew why.

The cold, white moonlight revealed the horrors that laid marked on his skin. Long, silver scars ran up and down his arms and legs, and his chest was completely bruised and scratched, even now I saw some pus still oozing from a particularly long gash on his back. What _was _this? What could have happened to my friend to cause him so much pain? I looked away, not wanting to see the savagery that stained his innocent flesh.

But I had to look back, because again the crack in his joints had grown louder, and he groaned as he threw himself back impossibly far, causing his spine to make the most horriffic noises I had ever heard. He cried out in pain, lunging forward and throwing himself to the floor, digging into the wood with his fingernails. He snarled again, through clenched teeth, and stood, reaching up into the air. As he did, his small body began to change. It morphed in a series of snaps and cracks that tore heartwrenching screams from his chest. I watched as tears cascaded down his pale face until his face was no longer pale.

What stood before me wasn't Remus any more.

The thing he had grown into was twice the size Remus was, somewhat like a wolf but with a tufty tail and a different snout. And his eyes. Remus' eyes were the only thing that made me sure I was looking at him, because they looked around with the same intelligent haughtiness and kindness that only he could quite pull off.

Wolf-Remus lunged forward towards me, and I rolled out of the way, just in time for him to land in the spot where I had just been. He looked around, disappointed, and began to sulk around the room, as if looking for prey. When he found nothing, he threw up his head and howled.

At first, all he did was howl, striding up and down the room howling and howling, lunging at anything that so much as fluttered because of the small disturbance he had made in the air passing it. When he found that there was nothing living to find, his attitude turned angry, and he clawed furiously at the ground and then, at himself.

I watched, flinching, as I finally understood why Remus' skin was so scarred. It was because of this. With nothing to scratch and claw at, he would scratch and claw himself, persistently dragging his claws through his chest, arms and legs, yelping at the pain, but ignoring it, fighting through it, inflicting more of it.

At some point, I fell asleep, listening to the helpless howls of my mutant friend.

I awoke to sunlight at the window, muted by the dust. In the middle of the floor lay Remus, a naked, exhausted body covered in new lasserations. I crawled tentatively over to him, almost afraid that he might bite again. But he wasn't wolf-Remus any more. He was my friend again, just a twelve year old boy. He looked so small, lying curled up in a ball on the floor, breathing shaky breaths, practically convusling. I took off the cloak and the dressing gown I was wearing stiffly, and tenderly threw it over him, tucking it in under him. A hand snatched my wrist as I began to move away. He was awake.

"J-James?" he asked, suddenly aware of everything around him. He sat up, pulling my dressing gown around him. "James, what are you doing here? I could have hurt you!" He sounded angry

"I know... Remus, what was that?" I asked, rubbing my eyes and stretching. I hadn't moved from my position all night, and my muscles were protesting with every movement I made.

"It was..." Remus paused for a second, as if unsure if he should tell me.

"Remus, I just saw everything. If you don't tell me, it won't be hard to find out myself. Please?"

Remus nodded.

"What you just witnessed is lycanthropy. When a man turns into a wolf, or, a boy. Lycanthropy is an infection..."

"It can be _given_ to you? How?" I asked, astonished. More importantly, who? Remus smiled a soft, ironic smile.

"My father's a lot like you, James. He always speaks his mind. Also like you, he rarely thinks about the consequences. No doubt you've heard of Fenrir Greyback?"

"Of course," I said, wanted posters with his face plastered on them dominated most of the Wizarding World, "he's one of the world's most notorious werewolves. He's the one who bites all those kids, right? Says he wants to teach them to hate wizards... Oh, Remus," I said, suddenly realising what I had said. Remus' eyes glistened with tears, but he continued with the same, sad smile.

"Yes, James, I am a werewolf. I was bitten by Fenrir Greyback when I was little. Now, I live like this, I come to this shack every full moon, and I deal with my transformations."

"Does it... hurt?" I asked, staring at his arms.

"This?" he asked, gesturing to his scars. "This hurts like hell. But it's not half as bad as the transformation is. It burns your whole insides, and it feels like it's breaking every bone in eight different places one by one. It's the kind of pain where every time, you think it will get better. You think you'll be able to handle it this time, but each time is as bad as the last." I tried not to pity him, I tried not to give him the same look passing teachers did, but I couldn't help but extend an arm to timidly pat his shoulder comfortingly.

"I suppose I'll just leave you alone now," he said, not looking at me.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"It's all right. I'm not used to having friends anyway. Just, promise not to tell everybody? Ok? Maybe even not the group?"

"Remus, I'm still going to be friends with you," I said, as if it were obvious. I smiled, but he looked unconvinced.

"James, you don't have to, it's Ok. People leave me all the time. Nobody wants to be friends with..." Remus mumbled, fiddling with a few loose threads on my dressing gown. He looked so sad, so small. I couldn't help it, looking at him and understanding why other people would leave him. And I hated myself for it. Nobody should have to live a life without friends, especially not a boy as special as Remus. And so, instead of accepting his offer and leaving, I spoke.

"Remus," I said, "Remus, _look at me_," he looked up, his weary eyes almost not allowing themselves to be hopeful. "Remus, you are my friend. You will always be my friend, as long as we live I swear to you that I will _never _reject you for something as unimportant as this furry little problem" He chuckled at the expression, and then pondered what I had said.

"People are going to think I have a deranged rabbit." he said. I laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder. It wasn't enough for him, and he threw his arms around me in a brotherly hug, clutching my back. I hugged him back, feeling warm moisture begin to fall on my shoulder.

"Thank you, James," he said, choking back his sobs, "this is the first time I've ever felt like I'm not alone."

We parted and stood, Remus retrieving some clothes he had stashed away earlier. He stretched and checked his watch.

"It's nearly seven already!" he exclaimed, peering out the window to see the sun beginning to rise.

"No," I said, under my breath, remembering. "No, no, NO!"

"What is it, James?" asked Remus.

"The match! The first match of the season against Ravenclaw! It's today!" Hearing this, Remus grabbed my arm and we ran back to Hogwarts, where the rest of the school was awaking, ready to watch the first match of the season. Excited Gryffindors stretched and felt excitement course through their veins, ready to watch their star chaser win them the first match. But their star chaser could barely keep his eyes open


	13. That's Gonna Leave a Bruise

"James! Where the hell have you been? Felix has been in here twice looking for you! The match is in a few hours and you look a mess!" Sirius was on me immediately when I walked in, throwing a bathrobe and Quidditch robes into my arms and ushering me into the shower. In a hurry, I undressed and hopped in.

The cool water felt good on my skin. It washed away the grime I felt ingrained in me from my night spent on the dusty floor of the shack. I tired too to wash out the fatigue, but even as I left the blessed spray my eyelids felt heavy.

The cheers as I entered the Great Hall in my Quidditch robes would remedy that.

"Good luck, James,"

"Go get em, James,"

"Careful on that broom, James,"

"You look good in those Quidditch robes, James," one daring first year giggled. I flashed her a particularly charming smile and rumpled my hair. Her smile vanished as Sophia appeared beside me, grabbed my head and kissed me _very _publicly.

"That was for good luck," she said, hanging on my lips, and then sat down, cheeks flushed, hiding behind her breakfast from the wolf whistles that travelled up the table. I sat down next to her and shot unamused looks at the boys who were sniggering, silencing them at once. She gave me a grateful look.

I was so nervous my stomach was churning. I looked distastefully at the food laid out in front of me. Giving myself a few pieces of toast and buttering them slowly, I forced myself to eat. _You need energy,_ I kept telling myself, but it was still tough not to gag. I downed it all with some pumpkin juice and stood, bidding my friends farewell, I would see them on the pitch. And so, with a stomach half full and eyes half open, I made my way over to the Quidditch pitch with dread.

By nine o'clock the stands were full of cheering students, all excited for the match. I watched nervously from my place inside the changing room, staring out. A blur of faces and hands clapped and whooped. Amid the chaos iridescent ghosts joined the festivities, bobbing up and down with enthusiasm. Even in the changing room now the atmosphere was buzzing. I looked back behind me to see my teammates, constantly high fiving each other and offering encouragement left right and center.

"Hey, Rookie, get over here," said Melissa Miller, our seeker. I joined her group and they all welcomed my by ruffling my hair or patting me on that back. "You nervous?" Melissa asked. I shook my head, putting on a brave face.

"Those Ravenclaws don't know what's coming to them," I said, confidently. _Nervous as hell, _I thought.

"We've got a plucky one here," said Dominic, patting me again. I smiled brightly at them all. We chatted optimisticly about the match for a few minutes before Felix entered and called the group to order.

"Alright people," he began, "first match of the season, let's make it a good one," The team roared, practically drowning out the rest of Felix's speech on plays. We knew all the plays inside out anyway.

Over the speakers, we heard the voice of Davey Gudgeon introducing the Raveclaws, and there was a thundering applause from the stadium as we watched the Ravenclaw team fly out into the stadium in skillful synchronicity. The tumbled and twirled into a line, facing our changing room. Waiting for us.

"And now, GRYFFINDOR!" yelled Davey, at which point we all charged out of the changing rooms and kicked high into the air, in a V formation with Felix at our head. We did a lap around the stadium and each of us branched out, corkscrewing downwards towards the middle and shooting back up again, in the middle of the stadium, where we were all in a circle facing inwards. Felix winked, and we all shot out in an impressive spectacle of backwards flying. The ends of our circle broke and spread so we were in a line, facing the Ravenclaws. Around us, the crowd exploded into applause.

We all reached out and shook hands before assuming out positions, and the air stilled as Sir Areoson brought the whistle to his lips and blew.

Elise cuaght the Quaffle and threw it immediately to me. Suddenly overwhelmed by all the people watching and the _noise, _I fumbled and it fell from my hands into those of the Ravenclaw chaser underneath me, who shot towards the goalposts. I snapped out of it and dove after her in persuit.

"What the hell, James?" asked Felix, narrowly catching a bludger that was going right for my head.

"Sorry!" I said, concentrating on the Ravenclaw chaser. But it was too late.

"...And the first goal of the match goes to Ravenclaw! An amazing shot by the Ravenclaw chaser Celestina Humphrey, Bella Spruce gutted she let that one in..."

That one was on me. I was determined I wouldn't miss another.

Again, Sir Aeroson blew the whistle and we started off again, this time the Ravenclaws catching the Quaffle.

"Mike! Mike, double up!" I yelled, and the two of us shot after her, each taking a we were both at her sides and she was reasonably uncomfortable, Michael sped forward and stopped right in front of her while I dropped beneath. Stunned, she dropped the ball into my expectant fingertips in some ironic twist of what she had just done to me, and I swung around and headed towards the goalposts.

Noticing a bludger coming right at me, I threw the Quaffle agilely to Elise, who caught it and threw it back. In a single, lythe movement I threw the Quaffle again, right towards the Ravenclaw goalpost...

"...SCORE! And Gryffindor are right back in the game, ten all with a stunning play from the youngest and newest addition to the team, James Potter..." I heard Peter shrieking from the stands and smiled.

The next three goals were mine, mine and mine. The atmosphere was electric as Gryffindor began to pull ahead of the game. I swooped down to take my next shot when _WHAM, _a bludger came at me hard and fast and knocked the Quaffle from my hands, crunching all the bones in my finger.

"James, are you Ok?" asked Michael, flying up beside me. I wasn't Ok. I was tired and nervous and my hand hurt like hell. The sickening chrunch it had made kept repeating in my head. I heard it again and again.

"...And that's another goal for Ravenclaw, bringing them to a score of twenty-fourty, Gryffindor had better watch out because Ravenclaw are hot on their tails..."

I stared at my limp hand that I had been crardling. Without me, Ravenclaw were sure to win.

"I'm fine, Mike. Don't worry about it," I said, trying to ignore the pain and wielding my broom back around to get back to our starting positions.

Despite the pain, I would not let Ravenclaw win this match. I swept right in the minute the whistle was blown and the Quaffle was in my grasp. I made a few haphazard passes to and from Elise before clumsily throwing the Quaffle through the goalpost, it grazing the Ravenclaw keeper's fingertips, but still falling through.

Wincing against the pain, I relied on adrenaline for the best part of the remaining match, hoping it would numb the aching just enough for me to keep scoring. Which I did, I scored again and again, biting the insides of my cheeks to keep myself from yelling and giving myself away. I looked into the stands for some kind of support and there I found it. My antidote.

Smiling and waving from her place, perfectly situated amongst the red and yellow sat a head of deep red hair and flushed red cheeks. Lily waved at me from the stands, screaming at the top of her lungs. Suddenly, her voice, along with the voices of all the others muted and time slowed a fraction just to let me look at her. Our eyes locked and I felt my heart flare. That was the only thing I felt. There was no pain in my hand, there was only me and Lily.

And from then on everything was easier. Time stayed slow, but gave me speed. I deftly ducked between attempts from the defending team as my mind focused on Lily and I expertly shot goal after goal before.

"STOP! There we have it folks, the Ravenclaw Seeker, Mr Roderick Sewell emerges from the grass with a snitch raised proudly in his hands..." The crowd on the Ravenclaw side cheered riotously as we landed on the ground, my knees weak, the feeling flooding back into my hand. I was suddenly more exhausted than I had ever felt in my whole life, and nauseous, oh so nauseous. I peekd at my left hand cradled in my arms to see it was a deep, angry purple. And all that for nothing. Unless...

There was a moment of confusion as cogs began to turn in the minds of everyone in the stadium, and then, Davey's voice came back over the speakers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, despite Sewell's amazing effort on the pitch today, that leaves Ravenclaw with a score of one hundred and seventy," there was a stirring from the Gryffindor side of the stadium, "...which, yes, you've all guessed it, is less that Gryffindor's two hundred and thirty points. GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

My moment of elation was short lived, but the few minutes I had were truly the best of my existence. Except, perhaps, the back of my mind kept telling me, that hug from Lily Evans last Christmas. Nonetheless, this was a close second. I was hoisted onto the shoulders of Felix and Dominic, who paraded me around the entire length of the Quidditch pitch. The rest of the Gryffindors swarmed around us as I was congratulated far above anybody else. I even had a thumbs up from McGonagall, or at least I thought I did. Everything swam in front of me and vomit rose in my throat. My stomach churned uncomfortably and from my hand pain pulsed right up to my shoulders.

And then it all went black.

I awoke in the company of Madam Pomfrey, who was holding some Peruvian Potent Perfumes under my nose and causing me to sneeze, which sent a horrible shock down the length of my arm.

"Nasty break there, that one. You should have come to me right when it happened. Got so bad I had to put a bit of Skele-Gro in you," she said, bustling around my bed. "You've been out for much too long for a boy who hurt his hand, though. The secret to a good game, Mr Potter, is a good night's sleep."

"I couldn't sleep, I had some business to attend to last night. Down by the Whomping Willow."

Madam Pomfrey cocked an eyebrow. "It is not advisable, Mr Potter, to tell a teacher when you have been breaking the school rules and being out of bed when you weren't allowed." she said, disapprovingly. Then, she leaned in close so that none of the other invalids could hear, "But I'm glad that that boy has a friend." She said, and winked.

I laid back in bed and felt the pain from the awful Skele-Gro shooting through my arms. But it was all worth it. We won.

_**A/N: I did very much consider James losing this match but I thought his stubborness earned him a win, plus that hand's gonna hurt for a while. This was a really fun chapter to write so please Review it and tell me what you think (even if what you think is that I shouldn't write any more Quidditch matches coz i suck at them).**_


	14. Let's Say A Stag, For Example

"James, James wake up," said Sirius' voice from my bedside. I blinked awake to find that it was dark and nobody was there. Until suddenly, they were all there, hunched under my cloak, now spreading out to lean on my bed while Remus climbed up on the foot of it. I sat up and made space for the other two, the star player of the Quidditch match was awarded a particularly big hospital bed.

"Guys! What are you doing here?" I asked, elated. Peter handed me a chocolate frog and I ate it delightedly. Then, he handed me the card. "You can keep it, Peter," I said, smiling. My collection was full of every card I was aware of, but Peter's had a mere five cards. I gave him all of mine.

"We came to check on you after that match, it was amazing! You were absolutely splendid, James!"

"Thank you, Remus," I said, nodding my head, "but why didn't you come during daylight hours?"

"Because you've been asleep all day and Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let us in to see you," answered Sirius. "That hand still looks pretty bad," I glanced down at it. I had barely noticed it since my friends had woken me up, but now that I was aware of it I could again feel the pounding pain of the Skele-Gro.

"I've seen worse," I said, looking meaningfully at Remus. He shot me back a warning shake of his head, very slightly, but it didn't go unnoticed by Sirius.

"What's going on?" he asked, sensing concealment from him.

"You can tell them," I urged Remus, "we're all your friends. You're not alone, remember?" Remus nodded and drew in a deep breath. Then, he rolled back the sleeves of his dressing gown. By the light of the waning moon, the long, spindly scars looked like white ivy crawling up towards his shoulders.

Sirius and Peter gasped, but they had no idea what was to come. Remus proceeded to take of his shirt entirely and expose the truly hideous nature of his skin. From the previous night's ordeal the flesh was ravaged. Raw red scratches tore down his chest.

"Remus... who did this to you?" asked Sirius, horrified. Peter gave a little yelp as if to second the question, too horrified to talk. All he did was stare at Remus, and while looking like he had to vomit but too enraptured to look away.

"I did," Remus answered solemnly, and then continued to explain. He told them everything about being a werewolf. They listened as intently as I had and, watching their faces, I could tell that they both had the same reaction I had. They were piteous, yes, but not discriminative. The thought of having a werewolf next to them didn't make their skin crawl like it did for the conservative members of the Ministry voicing their loud and unwanted opinions in the Daily Scale. They wanted Remus as a friend no matter what. His confiding in them was simply the wax with which the relationship was sealed.

"B-But... why the scars?" asked Sirius, still stunned, unable to completely get his head around the idea.

"Werewolves have an extremely violent instinct. They spend most of their time looking for human prey so they can feed it. When they don't find it," Remus paused, as if it hurt to say it, "they hurt themselves." Sirius gasped.

"Bloody hell, Remus." he said, shaking his head.

"But, but I read there were cures! I read they found something! Didn't they Remus? Didn't they?" squealed Peter, bouncing up and down on the bed. I had an awful urge to slap him and tell him to for the love of all that was good _sit still and shut up, _but Remus was more understanding. He patted him and shook his head sadly.

"There was recently the discovery of Wolfsbane, Peter, but we still aren't sure how to use it correctly. Professor Slughorn has been mixing me some every month to see if it makes any difference. So far, all it's done is make things a little bit clearer in my mind. Sometimes, I can distinguish between my wolf side and human side. But that's very rare and hard to do. And as for the lycanthropy, no. There's no cure for that." Peter nodded sudo-intelligently, indicating that he understood.

We sat there in a moment of silence as everyone digested what Remus had said.

"But, there's another way," I said, slowly, the back of my mind poking at me, telling me I was missing something. _Interesting creatures, werewolves, they will only attack humans. If they were to come across a stag for example, they wouldn't do anything to harm it. _Thank you, Professor Spriteworth.

"Remus, you only attack _humans _right?"

"And the occasional self," he said as a weak excuse for a joke. Nobody laughed.

"So, if maybe we were _animals, _we'd be fine, right? And you wouldn't attack yourself?" Remus paused, as if really thinking it through.

"Well, I suppose so. However, none of you are animals. I see the flaw in your plan."

"Actually, his plan is flawless," began Sirius, like minded. "Remember we told you that James and I went to Pompeii over the summer for his parent's work. Did we tell you about the mini-Quidditch games we played with the aurors? Because after one of them, I was talking to an auror- whose name I wasn't aloud to disclose- who told me about _animagi._" I nodded rapidly, Sirius knew what I was talking about, now half of us were on my side. Peter wouldn't need much convincing.

"Animagi?" he asked, confused.

"Yeah," replied Sirius. eyes widening as if he had just begun to see the whole plan, "there are certain- gifted- wizards, who are so masterful in transfiguration that they can transform into animals at will."

"What animals?" asked Peter, confused.

"Well, that really depends on the person's character. He said that he knew a girl who turned into a cat, because she was so sly and wily." That made me stop and think again, _If they were to come across a stag for example. _I wondered why Spriteworth had mentioned a stag. Had he meant anything by it? Probably not. How could anybody know someone's animagus?

"Yes, yes, while that's all very well and good, I don't know how any of you expect to find out how to become and animagus, and even if you to it takes considerable skill and not that of second year Hogwarts students who are still working on giving matchboxes tails!" Remus, always the voice of reason, looked down disdainfully at all of us.

There was a pause, and then, unsteadily, I began to speak.

"James Potter, whilst one of the more trying students, shows particularly impressive skill in transfiguration and is top of his class," I said, quoting my transfiguration report from last year. I waited, in the silence, until Sirius spoke.

"Sirius Black is a loud and uncontrollable student at the best times, but he is still has a very impressive grasp on the subject," he said, smiling.

"P-Peter Pettigrew is a sweet and well mannered boy but is not the best at transfiguration. However, his friends, misleading though they can be, always help him get there in the end."

"We can do this, Remus," I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. The others nodded in agreement. Remus rolled his eyes and sighed.

"I suppose when you're mind is made up, there's nothing _I _could do to stop you," he said in mock annoyance, but we all knew that he was grateful.

"Now get out of here, the lot of you, I'm trying to sleep!" I said, clutching my arm and shuffling back down under the covers. Right before I closed my eyes, I saw my friends disappear under the cloak and a bit later, the door to the infirmary mysteriously opened and closed again. I thought I saw, right before it closed, the face of Professor Spriteworth, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

_**A/N: So, . commented that she wondered how Spriteworth knew that James was a stag, and at first I just couldn't think of another animal and it was just a lucky guess, but now I think he actually had a far more instrumental role in James' life, so I'm writing him in more. If that annoys any of you, feel free to rant about it, at least it counts as a review, and I'll see what I can do. Also, things are indeed moving a bit fast but I'm getting tired of filler chapters.**_


	15. I Solemnly Swear I'm Up To No Good

The next day the entire Quidditch team came to see me in the infirmary with raucous congratulations. They all brought an item of food each and piled them mile-high by my bedside. A colourful array of Bertie Botts Every Flavoured Beans was spread out on my sheets and we each took one, inspecting them, sniffing them, trying to work out their flavour.

"Rotten eggs, I know it is," said Michael, holding a pungent, discoloured sweet at arm's length, waving it in Elise's face. She batted it away giggling, sending it careening over to Bella who, with keeper-quick skills, batted it towards Felix.

Amid the chaos someone shouted, "First to let it drop has to eat it!" and the game was on. Felix and Dominic hit it between each other for a while, before Dominic accidentally missed, sending it over to Melissa, who snatched it like a Snitch from the air and sent it flying back to Elise who threw it back to me, but she was on my left side, so I couldn't catch it, and the rotten egg flavoured sweet fell in my lap. The laughter ceased as everybody stared at it.

"Injury immunity?" I inquired weakly. Felix flashed me a devilish smile and shook his head. A small rumble of anticipation filled the air as everyone began to whisper, watching as I slowly unwrapped my punishment, eyeing it. Even from its place in my lap I could smell the stench of rotten eggs. I looked up nervously when the wrapper was discarded. No sympathy. Michael began to chant slowly, softly, pumping his fist with small motions.

"Ja-ames, Ja-ames, Ja-ames," Melissa joined in with him. And then Elise. Soon, there were six very loud Quidditch players around my bed chanting my name at the top of their lungs. Around me, I saw ill and vomiting invalids eyeing us unappreciatively. Madam Pomfrey hovered a little way away, waiting to tell us off, but she still looked intrigued as I raised the bean to my lips. _Here goes nothing._

In a climax of chanting and cheers I popped the putrid bean in my mouth and held my nose, trying to let it avoid my tongue before I noticed something. It didn't taste of rotten eggs at all. I took a proper taste and, indeed, it was the creamy sensation of butterscotch that filled my mouth. I watched my teammates, gagging at the sight of me savouring the sweet. I'd give them something to gag about all right.

With a feigned wince and an immense motion, I made a show of biting down and chewing gratuitously. Most of them hid behind their hands, shaking their heads in disbelief at the gall of their team's youngest member, but Felix, though impressed, was not disgusted.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Gryffindor team," he began, stepping up on the chair at the foot of my bed meant for visitors. It creaked under his weight as he spread his hands to silence the din, causing people to turn their attention to him. "I would like to tell Mr Potter, nicely played. But I could spot a butterscotch bean a mile away."

Twelve eyes turned on me for confirmation, and I shrugged deviously. All of them broke out into cacophonous laughter, reiterating Felix's congratulations of _well played _before Madam Pomfrey finally came over and chased them away, scolding them for their inconsiderate behaviour towards the other patients.

"And you, Mr Potter, can also go. That hand will be fully healed in a day or two, and we wouldn't want you to be missing work, now would we?"

"Of course not," I agreed politely, gathering up my robes so that I could get dressed out of my pajamas and join my friends in class. I changed quickly in the bathroom and ran up to my dorm to grab my books. Then, I continued on to Herbology.

"James! You're back!" commented Eddie the Sprout as I stepped into the room. I winked at her, and the rest of the class started cheering, the Gryffindors because they were genuinely glad we had won and the Hufflepuffs because most of them had made their bets on me. I took a small bow before noticing the unamused eye of Professor Sprout, Eddie's aunt. Eddie stopped whooping immediately, and most of the class noticed and followed suit.

I slid in between Sophia and Remus and picked up one of the odd, pruny plants that they were peeling and trimming.

"Shrivel Figs," explained Remus, finishing off his third and placing it in a pile. "The key ingredient to Shrinking Solution which we'll be doing next year. Professor Slughorn needs them all ready so that he can get to the liquid at the middle for his class tomorrow. Well, get to work!" he said, handing me a small blade and a Shrivel Fig. I began to imitate him with my fig.

When Remus was once again fully absorbed in his work, Sophia leant over to me.

"I saw my luck helped." she said with a small smile. I pretended to gaze of into the distance whilst I watched Lily peel her fig skillfully, pretending it was her talking to me.

"You have no idea," I replied. Sophia giggled at the statement and I wrenched my gaze away from Lily to look over and smile devilishly at her. "You are so beautiful," I said charmingly. Though my feelings for Sophia had grown fonder, that didn't change my opinion of her beauty. She was still perfectly mediocre, but the comment had the desired affect. Sophia melted in my hands, looking shyly away, blushing. Remus snorted. I elbowed him.

Then I noticed Sirius and Peter from across the room, both making obscene and immature kissy faces at us. Peter stopped immediately when he saw me notice, but Sirius exaggerated it more, adding in hand movements. Professor Sprout was not impressed as she frowned at him. Peter elbowed him hard in the ribs and he stopped to clutch his side, yelping so loudly I could hear it. He turned over to smile weakly at Professor Sprout who glowered at him, and then turned back to peeling his fig, hiding behind a mass of shaggy black hair.

Then, just as I began to get on with my work again, a small paper airplane fell beside my small scalpel. I picked it up and opened it subtly, very aware of Professor Sprout's growing exasperation with us two. Inside I saw an animated sketch of Sirius poking a figurative woman with leaves growing out of her at awkward angles, evidently Professor Sprout, hence she was sprouting random vegetation. As I watched, cartoon Sirius began to agitate the 'Sprout' further and further until the plant grew so red and angry that it spontaneously combusted. I cracked up, shaking with laughter but still trying to be discreet. My efforts were futile.

A podgy hand snatched the piece of paper from mine and a pair of blazing eyes watched again as the virtual embodiment of itself grew red before bursting into flames. I watched nervously as steam practically began to pour from Professor Sprout's quickly reddening ears.

"Mr Potter, Mr Black, I will be seeing you both for detention with me tonight after dinner, you will be feeding the Mandrakes." We nodded apologetically, both internally rolling our eyes.

I don't know if you have ever tried to feed a baby mandrake but let me tell you it's _bloody _difficult. Their little purple bodies squirmed so much in our grip that we could have sworn we were going to drop them, and we couldn't simply put the food in their mouths- they eat worms and stuff, it was disgusting- we had to hold stuff in their mouths at the end of a stick because if they bit us it would go purple and wouldn't heal for two weeks no matter how much Madam Pomfrey tried to help us. That would very much mess up my Quidditch schedule.

And the screams, oh the _screams._

"Frank Longbottom only had to _water _the mandrakes when he got detention," Sirius complained under his breath, which without the sound of wailing mandrakes would probably have sounded very loud indeed.

"Frank Longbottom didn't eviscerate his teacher in a vicious cartoon." spat Professor Sprout, quite unable to see the humour in it. I would have laughed at Sirius if I hadn't been too busy trying to shove a worm down my mandrake's little purple lips whilst trying to hold it still and make sure that my fluffy pink earmuffs wouldn't fall off. We needed a better note-passing system.

I decided the very second we got back to figure out a way to pass secret notes, well, _secretly. _I walked over to sit on my bed and took out a scrap piece of parchment. Of course, I had basic flight mastered, the same way Sophia had done that first time in the library with the butterfly. With no teacher looking, it could very well be an insect.

But it needed a passcode on it, something that only we could crack. I watched the window as night descended and the waning moon began to rise. When I looked back, the sun was flooding the sky with golden light, and I was triumphant.

For the first and probably last time ever, I couldn't wait for class, a nice long double of History of Magic, which was perfect. Professor Binns wouldn't notice a flapping paper butterfly in the room even if it flew straight through his head.

I explained my creation vaguely over breakfast to the gang, who listened excitedly.

"Brilliant, James!" Sirius exclaimed, taking the bit of parchment from me. "What should we set the passcode as?" We all settled down to think, even Remus who, while opposed to the concept of passing notes, was happy to see me taking such an avid interest in 'magic in a practical environment'.

"How about, open sesame?" asked Sirius, giving up.

"We might as well just go with _please,_" I retorted.

"Ooh, I know! How about _I solemnly swear I'm up to no good!_" We all sat up, struck by the simple genius, and looked over at Peter. He looked back nervously, wondering if he had said something wrong.

"Peter," I breathed, "Peter, it's _perfect. _The wipe code could be _Mischief Managed._" Sirius clapped his hands and laughed, and we sprung up excitedly as the clock chimed to go to lessons.

I had practically just sat down in class when I saw the first butterfly set off into the air, loop around the classroom and land delicately beside my dormant quill, which suffered much neglect in History of Magic.

I unfolded the butterfly and held the tip of my wand against the creased parchment. _I solemnly swear I'm up to no good._

There, a message appeared on the bewitched piece of paper.

_Testing, testing, one two three. _I smiled proudly. I scratched down a message of my own.

_Tried, tested and fully functional, _I wrote back, adding a whispered 'Mischief managed," before sending the butterfly careening back to Sirius who had uprooted himself to the other side of the classroom for our little experiment. But we had class with the Slytherins, and so when the butterfly went a little too low and was snatched out of the air by Severus I was hardly surprised.

Sirius shot me a smile from across the room and all four of us settled down to watch the show.

From my place a few places behind him, I couldn't see the words on the piece of parchment, but I knew very well the gist of them. They were probably shooting colourful insults at him, and judging from the jerks of his head and judging from Sirius' shaking body his expressions were probably quite a sight to see.

Finally, the butterfly re-folded itself and yanked itself from Severus' grasp, flying over to Sirius who sent it back to me. I opened it and found another message.

_This'll work_


	16. The Lily Who Loved Me

"Damn it, where is it, _where is it?_" I asked, annoyed, rifling through everything I owned. Today had not gone well for me. Of course, I had a detention right before now in which Sirius had forgotten his looking glass so we couldn't communicate. Before that I had had a slight mishap in potions and was severely scolded before that goddamned _Snivellus _had to come to my rescue and sort everything out. But moreover, I saw Lily, dangling like an idiot off of Gabriel Kramer, a Ravenclaw in the year above and a very sought after member of their Quidditch team, which _I had beaten._

What was Lily doing with a git like him anyway? Lily didn't need a guy with his reputation, a player, and she was certainly too clever to fall for any of his plays. She was too everything. Too intelligent, too funny, too nice, too absolutely beautiful...

All my thoughts these days eventually led to Lily's absolute beauty, because in all honesty, how could they not? Lily was the most gorgeous creature I would ever lay eyes upon. Her face was like the night sky, star freckled. Her eyes sparkled like prisoner glints of sunlight trapped in broken glass. Her lips were softer than clouds, and all I ever wanted was to feel them pressed against mine.

Only Lily blasted Evans could ever make me think corny things like that, and yet my head was spinning poetry every day, churning out another line every few seconds, piling up miles of a tapestry of words which would never pass my lips to her ears.

Because she was draped over that bloody git Gabriel Kramer, who I refused to think of as Gabe like everyone else because he doesn't deserve the nickname, even in my head.

And so now, I'm looking for my cloak, because I have to go to the mirror. I have to go to it to see her again, _my _Lily. The Lily who loves me.

But I can't bloody find it.

"Oh for God's sake, James, what are you looking for?" asked Remus, peering up from behind his book irritatedly.

"My cloak, I need it." I replied, checking between my Quidditch robes _again._

"Sirius took it half an hour ago, remember? He said he was going to go raid the kitchen? You lent it to him," He was right. Of course he was right, he was Remus. But that didn't change the fact that it wasn't here and if I didn't see the mirror I would probably go mad.

Which was ironic, because most people would regard my need for seeing the mirror as madness in itself.

So, I made the decision to go to the third floor without it, sneaking out of the Gryffindor tower silently.

"Sneaking out again, Mr Potter?" asked the Fat Lady, evidently not asleep yet.

"Yes... Erm... I..." I began, unsure of what to say.

"Don't worry, you know I won't tell a soul. I just worry for your poor health. A boy your age should be getting plenty of sleep," she said in a very mothering tone.

"I'll bear that in mind," I said, before slipping away down to the third floor. Me and the Fat Lady had a sort of unspoken pact. She was perfectly aware of the fact that I often went out through her hole at night, despite the fact I was usually under a cloak, but she preferred to play it as a game of fate. If I was caught, then it was meant to be, if not then she was right not to tell anybody.

I knew my way to the room with the mirror so well by now that I could do it with my eyes closed, and so I skillfully crept through the shadowy halls of Hogwarts to the third floor, avoiding every patrolling teacher on the way when finally, I reached the room with the mirror.

_Alohamora_

"Here again, James?" asked a voice from behind me as I tried my best to silently close the creaky door. OF course, I had forgotten the most important factor. The reason I wanted to take the cloak to begin with.

Spriteworth.

"Yes, Professor," I said, sighing. I knew he wouldn't tell on me. He couldn't, because of what he saw in the mirror, whatever that was.

"Well I suppose, if you're going to make breaking the rules of Hogwarts to be here a regular occurrence, you might as well call me by my first name," he said, patting the ground beside him as he did last time. I opened my mouth to answer him and then closed it again, realising that Spriteworth's was the only name I didn't know.

Spriteworth let out a loud, barking laugh and I whipped my head from side to side instinctively, as if to check that nobody had heard.

"Calm down James, I cast a muffliato charm the second I came in here. I'll teach that one to you sometime, I know you'll find it useful. I was just laughing because I forgot how to you, I don't even have a first name. It's Eris," he said, extending a hand. I took it awkwardly. The name was not what I had expected, I was thinking of something a bit more spectacular, like Gilderoy Lockhart, the blonde Ravenclaw boy who everybody drooled over. But no, Spriteworth's was more humble. Faced with the man I saw now, somewhat smaller than in class, and sadder, it seemed to suit him perfectly.

"Eris, then" I said, turning the name over with my tongue, that would work I suppose. I sat down. In the mirror, Lily sat down beside me and a little way behind, kissing my reflection's neck.

"So what brings you down here tonight, James?" Spriteworth asked casually.

"I could ask you the same thing," I replied, not in the mood for talking, just feeling my frustration melt away as reflection-Lily kissed away my troubles. Once again I saw the wordless _I love you_ in between kisses. They weren't only from her lips.

"Ah," said Spriteworth, or Eris, as I should probably call him, "I was wondering if you had seen the new Evans-Kramer development," I felt a kind of irrational anger well up inside of me. How did he _always _know what was going on in my head? It was infuriating!

But then, as quickly as my anger had come, a tired sensation whisked it away and left my body heavy. Suddenly, I no longer minded the company, I welcomed it, it was the closest thing I had to reality.

"Yes," was all I said, looking over at Eris with a look that said _I know you're right I just don't know how. _He chuckled and looked back into the mirror.

"C'mon, what do you see then?" I asked, nudging him playfully, as one would an older brother. He shook his head and then tapped his nose. I harrumphed. "That's unfair. You know what I see," I said, crossing my arms and staring into the mirror. I noticed just in the corner of the mirror, out through the reflected window, that there was a small little Kramer, being eaten by flames.

"I'll give you a clue," he said, smiling sadly, "it's not all that different to what you see," I cocked an eyebrow at him but he said nothing further, he only took one last longing look at the mirror and then got up to leave. "I'm lifting the muffliato charm, James, so you'd better be quiet when you leave."

I left soon after, somewhat feeling even less satisfied than when I went in. Why did I think looking in that damn mirror would accomplish anything? Reflections weren't real, they were just what I wanted to see. I needed to _feel _more than see. I needed Lily's lips firmly on mine so that I could _feel _them.

I left the room as silently as I could and began to creep out of the room. I didn't get very far before I heard the most dreaded sound I could think of when I was out roaming the corridors at night breaking curfew whilst perfectly visible to go see a mirror which showed me absolutely nothing.

_Meow. _

Filch's cat, Mrs Norris, was right behind me. I knew it without turning around to look. And then the second sound, hurried, heavy footsteps which meant the Hogwarts Caretaker was close at hand. Without thinking, I ran, and a second sound of loud, heavy footsteps joined the speed of my swift, barefoot ones.

I was weaving in and out of corners, hoping that Filch hadn't yet caught sight of me when I was yanked by that arm out of nowhere and fell, a column behind me and a soft human body breaking my fall.

"For God's sake, James, get off of me!" whispered Sirius, quickly trying to gather up the food he'd taken from the kitchens. We were both under the cloak now, and watching as Filch stalked around the corner, an initial look of malice in his eyes, which quickly changed to one of confusion.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he called, stepping slowly forward. Mrs Norris prowled towards us, circling our feet and brushing slightly, her bulging yellow eyes looking spitefully up at us. "Mrs Norris, come back here, there's nothing there," said Filch, calling back his cat who looked towards him reluctantly, but then followed her master as the walked off into the distance.

Sirius and I made our way quickly and quietly back to the Gryffindor tower and snuck back into bed. Remus and Peter were still up, so we split the food Sirius had brought and discussed the night's events.

"We need some kind of radar. Something that tells us when a teacher's coming." said Sirius, thinking aloud.

"No, I think we need a map, telling us where every teacher is at any given time," I said, in disagreement.

"We can't just put a charm on every teacher without them knowing, that would never work-" exclaimed Sirius, still trying to work out his radar.

"Maybe we don't need to charm the teachers," interrupted Remus, pensively

"Well if we don't charm the teachers, how do we know who's coming?" asked Sirius matter-of-factly.

"We charm the school," said Remus. He looked at each of us in turn, waiting for our small nods of agreement. Peter, of course, agreed. So did Sirius, after some thought, and finally he turned to me.

"What charm could we use?" I asked, still trying to work it out in my mind.

"Well, you managed to make the password charm. We could figure this one out too."

And so the idea for the map was born.

_**A/N: If you guys are unhappy with the name, let me explain to you what it means. Eris is Pluto's only moon and I was feeling in quite a Sirius/Regulus cosmos kind of mood. Plus, the character of Spriteworth anyway quite reminds me of Pluto, something in his past having demoted him to less than he deserves... ooh, you thought I was going to spill some character revelations! Not a chance, just keep reading and reviewing!**_


	17. Roulette

_**Dedicated to my cousin Danni, who though she is exceedingly busy, is always willing to take some time out to make up some demonic Slytherin games with me instead of writing her dissertation. She's going to hate me for saying that. **_

Finding books on how to become unregistered animagi in the library was impossible. As much as we all scoured, none of us could even find a line which mentioned them. Perhaps the word 'illegal' had something to do with it.

"Forget it," claimed Sirius, slamming shut a very large and yellowed book, creating a dust cloud as he did. We all coughed and cleared the air with our hands, not that it did much. I was still rubbing my eyes for hours after.

"Well what are we supposed to do?" squeaked Peter. "We can't just figure this out on our own!"

"Agreed," said Remus, who seemed somewhat relieved. He was never quite convinced with out plan anyway.

"No." I said, standing from my place behind a stack of books five-high. "If we can't find the books here, then they must be in one place." My eyes flicked over to the restricted section. Three other pairs of eyes followed.

"No," mouthed Remus, who couldn't always deal with the level of rule breaking the rest of us could get up to.

"Ok," said Peter, uncharacteristically with not so much as a jerk in his pitch.

"I'm in," agreed Sirius, a mischievous glint in his eye. The corner of one of my lips pulled up, despite how much I wanted to keep my face straight. They all had to know the consequences of this plan.

"Boys, you know how much I hate to be the voice of sanity, I usually leave it to Remus, but I need to be sure we're all ready to face the consequences. Lets say we do this. Lets say we find something in the restricted section. If we become animagi, and someone not so friendly finds out and tells the Improper Use of Magic office, that's all three of us in Azkaban," I reminded them. But they nodded along anyway.

"We know, James, we all found that book on Wizarding law together. This is for Remus," said Sirius, standing as well and- quite teen american basketball film-esque- stuck his fist in the middle of us all.

"And his furry little problem," I agreed, sticking my hand in the middle too. Remus, not used to being so central in the conversation or having any friends who would go to such lengths for him, put his hand in the middle too, tears ghosted in his eyes. Peter, of course, also put his hand in the middle but somewhat more tentatively. It was decided.

That night, Sirius, Peter and I got under the cloak and crept out to the restricted section. The hype around that part of the library spread by fellow students was absurd. The only thing that hindered one from entering was a rope and a very stern librarian looking for a note. The inside was barely more impressive. Perhaps it was the imposing sight of the books chained to shelves that caused students to want so badly to go, wanting what they could not have. More likely and far more foolish, it was simply the piece of rope we easily stepped over.

The restricted section was larger than it first appeared from watching it from the outside. Especially in the dark, the big, black leather-bound books loomed over us from their shelves. We crept through silently, reading the spines by the light of our wands. Most of them had the word "dark" in their titles,

"Sh," I said, shushing the whispering from behind me.

"James, no-one's talking."

"Sure you are, I just heard..." I did hear something, but it wasn't coming from behind me. It was coming from a bit off to the left, behind a bookshelf. I ushered the others over, looking cautiously to check the cloak was completely covering us all.

_Nox._

"Your turn, Snape," as in _Severus _Snape? We crept out from behind the shelf to see there was a group of Slytherins wearing black robes and, standing in the middle of a ring of books stood, yes, Severus. His skin was made paler by the moonlight and the comparison with his long, black robes which were clearly too big, and his arms protruding from them looked positively skeletal. His face seemed aged, withered, as if he had been doing something draining.

"Snape, your turn," insisted one of the older boys in the group who I couldn't recognise. Severus turned back to look at the speaker, reluctance evident on his weary face.

"Please," he whispered.

"You know what happens, Snape. If you don't perform the spell, we perform it on your chosen," replied the boy, grinning malevolently. Snape's face went even more pale and his eyes widened at the thought. Resolved, he nodded and turned to face a figure I hadn't noticed, lying on the floor.

At first, the shape was just a shaking mass of black fabric and skin, but as Snape raised his wand with a quivering hand it turned over, exposing the face of a frightened Slytherin first year. Sirius started behind me as I recognised his brother Regulus. I held him back. Snape looked pityingly down at him, but didn't lower his wand. The boy looked pleadingly back up. His mouth fluttered in a soundless appeal, but the older boy's face remained static.

"He wanted to be here, Snape. We're just showing him what this is. He should have known he was too weak to handle it," the boy spat, the same smile hanging on his brutish face. Severus hesitated. The boy lowered his voice. "Your chosen, Severus."

"Do it, boy!" yelled a deranged voice from the side. I looked over to see that one of the people standing in the circle, black hair unfurling wildly over her shoulders, was Sirius' cousin, Bellatrix. She glared at Snape, thrusting her wandless right hand forward and twisting her imaginary weapon. Severus nodded.

"C-c-crucio," Severus said, red sparks flying from his wand. Regulus shut his eyes tight, but nothing happened. His face relaxed a bit. "I-I can't," Severus stammered.

"That was the spell you pointed, if you don't complete it, it is completed _on your chosen,_" insisted the older boy through clenched teeth, as if he had told Severus this a thousand times.

"You've just got to put some feeling into it!" shrieked Bellatrix, who was quickly hushed.

Severus nodded. Regulus shook his head in fright, his lips still forming soundless words. _I have to, _Severus mouthed, and then he raised his wand again.

"CRUCIO!" he yelled, and a red bolt of light shot from his wand. Regulus' face contorted as he began to scream out in agony. He writhed helplessly on the floor as Severus held the spell, pushing out all his energy onto the crumpled boy, convulsing, from whose eyes tears were flowing freely. He screamed again and again, it was worse, I was sure than any mandrake I had ever heard. How could one not run mad from such _pain_? I looked around me, wondering how the sound hadn't reached Filch's prying ears, before remembering the muffliato charm.

"I can't watch this any more," said Sirius, wincing. He turned and began to storm away, and we could only follow, lighting our wands again.

As we left the restricted section, my wand passed over a deep green cover to a book, which was different to the normal black I saw on every shelf. I halted, momentarily intrigued.

And there it was.

It had no fancy titles, no intricate drawings. Quite simply, on its leather cover read the golden word _Animagi. _I snatched it from the shelf as I noticed Sirius' step quicken as we left the restricted section. By the time we were out of the library we were streaking down the halls until Sirius stopped and threw back a tapestry, revealing a small nook where he flung himself down, and where we sat down next to him.

Sirius pressed his palms to his eyes and shook his head, hugging his knees into his chest and rocking slowly back and forth. From him, I heard a small, continuous groan. His body began to shake quite furiously, and the groan escalated into loud sobs.

"What... _was_ that?" asked Peter tentatively, as if wondering if it were right to ask.

"I-I don't know," I replied, trying stop the screams still ringing in my ears.

"That," began Sirius, with a tremor that visibly ran down his spine, "was Spell Roulette. It's Bellatrix's favorite game at home."

"_Game_?" I repeated incredulously.

"You take a book and randomly pick a spell, and then you have to perform the spell on one of the other players." I nodded dumbly. Who would play that game with a book from the restricted section? One that included Unforgivables?

"And the chosen?" squeaked Peter.

"That's the worst part. If you refuse to do the spell to the other player..."

"It's done to you?" I guessed.

"Much, much worse," said Sirius, his voice barely audible. "They'll do it to the person you love _most. _Your _chosen._"

And suddenly, even though the image of Sirius' little brother screaming on the floor was seared into the back of my eyelids, I was happy that it was him.

Because I knew Snape's chosen.

Lily.

And I couldn't live knowing that she had ever gone through such pain.

And suddenly, I hated myself.


	18. The Black Boys

Sirius wasn't quite the same the next morning. He was very quiet, and barely spoke a word. I couldn't look him in the eye. So, despite last night's triumph, the atmosphere at breakfast was subdued.

"I don't understand," hissed Remus to Peter, who was catching him up on last night's events whilst Sirius shot daggers at the Slytherin table. "A game?"

"Sirius said it was some sort of Roulette," answered Peter, trying as hard as he could to lower his register so it was less likely Sirius would hear. Not that he was listening. I tried my best to do the same. To not listen. To not think about Regulus shrieking in agony, to not see his little face contorted with pain. To not be so blasted _relieved._

I focused on Sirius' cousin, Bellatrix, trying as hard as I could not to search for Regulus' face. What right did I have to hope that he was Ok? That was reserved for people much better than I. Bellatrix was a wild girl, fairly attractive with her characteristic messy Black family hair. She wore lots of dark makeup, as if she just took a felt-tip pen and coloured her eyes in. But her skin was white, different to Severus' sickly white, more like a cold white. A commanding white.

I shifted my gaze to Narcissa, her younger sister, who couldn't be more different. Her hair fell tamely to the bottom of her ribcage and, in shocking contrast, was a yellow-blonde. Clearly in an attempt to look a bit more like the rest of her family, she had dyed her hair with streaks of black, but the difference was still unmistakable.

And yet, she resembled her sister. They had the same features, eyes, nose and lips, and the same slight frame, but she wore it all more delicately. Where Bellatrix's eyes shone with insanity, Narcissa's hid in a more timid, caring way. Where Bellatrix's movements were more jerky and forceful, Narcissa's were elegant and graceful. While Bellatrix's voice boomed and could be heard from all the way over here, at the other side of the Great Hall, Narcissa's was lowered, comforting...

Oh no. There he was. Regulus was holding onto Narcissa's hand and squeezing it tight, his eyes shut as she whispered comforts to him. I looked away immediately, trying not to feel pity or relief or _anything._

But I couldn't avoid him forever, and walking through the corridors in between classes, Regulus appeared at the end as we turned a corner. I looked at Sirius, who appeared not to have noticed his approaching brother, trying to figure out possible ways this would end.

Regulus had almost walked past, unscathed, when Sirius' arm shot out and grabbed his brother by the forearm. I looked around to check that nobody was watching. Nobody was.

"What were you doing last night?" hissed Sirius.

"Nothing, Sirius get off me!" yelled Regulus, trying desperately to pry himself from Sirius' grip.

"Then why did I see you and those Slytherin goons in the restricted section? I know it's not because you were studying in there."

"It's none of your business," yelled Regulus, yanking his arm finally away.

"When you start joining weird cults and being tortured, as your older brother it becomes my business," Sirius insisted. Regulus scowled back at him.

"It's just a club, Sirius. I don't expect _you _to understand." He spat.

"What? Because I'm not a Slytherin? Or because I don't feel the need to use dark magic against my friends like Snivellus did to you?" Asked Sirius, nostrils flaring, eyes blazing.

"HE DIDN'T DO _ANYTHING_ TO ME!" roared Regulus. Sirius looked positively ready for murder.

"YES HE DID!" he bellowed, "YES HE DID, I SAW YOU WRITHING IN PAIN ON THE FLOOR LIKE I HAD NEVER SEEN BEFORE! IT WASN'T HALF LIKE THE TIME DAD GOT MAD AT YOU FOR ALMOST BREAKING THAT SLYTHERIN LOCKET, IT WAS WORSE, SO MUCH WORSE! AND I SWORE THAT I WOULD NEVER LET YOU FEEL PAIN LIKE THAT AGAIN AND..." Sirius began to pant as he trailed off. Tears were glimmering in his and Regulus' eyes. "And you're making it so hard to follow that through, Reg."

The two brothers stood facing each other a moment, strikingly alike. Their haphazard hair even more ruffled after the heat of the argument. In both pairs of eyes, tears pushed against their better judgement. Finally, one dam broke.

"It hurt, Sirius," said Regulus, suddenly so _small_, so young, so innocent. Sirius pulled him into a massive bear hug and Regulus cried into his chest.

"It's Ok, Reg," he cooed, "it's Ok."

What better to shake the horrible thoughts from my mind than Blast Ended Skrewts? I wasn't hungry at all, and so I skipped lunch, and as luck would have it, while walking past Spriteworth's office he called me in.

"James! It's done, it's done!" he exclaimed, pulling me into his office with a spell I didn't recognise. "They're ready, they're ready!"

I walked into his office to see probably the most gruesome yet glorious sight I had ever seen. The ten cases that cluttered up the room contained ten, very dead Blast Ended Skrewts. And goodness did they have it coming. I walked up and tapped on one of the cases. Nope, no movement.

"They are quite dead, I think you'll find, Mr Potter. And not a moment too soon, eh?" I nodded, smiling. My mind went back to the horrible little creatures in the first year. The little slimy white things, nothing like these magnificent, ashen-shelled creatures.

"What are you going to do with them?" I asked.

"I've been waiting for you," he said, "I thought you might enjoy this part," I saw a playful smile on his lips, "You see, James, I've tried every spell I know- which as a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor means quite a few- and I just can't seem to get the shells magically off their bodies. So, I've decided to adopt more brash methods."

To my utter excitement, Spriteworth pulled out two sledgehammers. "Muggles do have the best techniques," he said, handing me one and a pair of goggles. "And, in all honesty, I can't wait to bash up these disgusting creatures. Although, before we do, I think it's time I taught you the muffliato charm, the incantation is _Muffliato. _It shouldn't be too hard for you, a wizard of your skill." I beamed at the compliment.

"It was actually made up by an equally skilled wizard in your very year, I wonder if you're acquainted although I very much doubt it considering he's a Slytherin, Severus Snape?" Oh, go on , Spriteworth, ruin a good moment why don't you? I nodded.

"Yes, I know him," I said through clenched teeth. _You caught me in the middle of hexing him, remember? _I seriously considered not using the spell, simply because I would morally allow myself, but then I decided against it. It would be worse if I could stick it to him, that I was using his creations and there was nothing he could do about it.

Wait... What did he mean _equally skilled_?

"Muffliato," I said, casually with a flick of my wand.

"Excellent!" exclaimed Spriteworth. I didn't understand. No bolt of light or even sparks had shot out of my wand. How could he possibly know if I had done it right. I looked at him, puzzled. "Listen," he said, understanding my confusion.

And then I heard it. The faintest buzzing sound, almost undetectable. Someone could cast the spell without anyone knowing if they weren't listening out. It was sort of... brilliant._ That's it though, Snivellus, I'm never calling you brilliant again._

With a flick of his wand, all of Spriteworth's cases disappeared and on the floor laid ten Skrewts, simply waiting for their punishment. I raised my sledgehammer and brought it down on the first one. A satisfying crunch ran up the sledgehammer and through my whole body. Oh yes, this was going to be fun.

Spriteworth and I had at the defenseless creatures for about an hour until all of their white, slimy bodies were completely exposed and their armour lay in pieces all over the floor. We picked it up and tested it, shooting as many hexes as we could think of at it, getting out all of the frustration we had ever had with the creatures and their vicious little ways.

"It looks like it still works, James. I think we might be able to make something out of this," he said excitedly. I had never seen the man so... bouncy.

"How do you plan on moulding it, Sir?" I asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm not quite sure about that bit yet James, but rest assured, the moment I do I'll tell you."

"This is said, Sir," I said, looking at all the Skrewts lying on the floor, their shells ripped from them and now lying in a pile of scrap in front of us.

"Well yes, James, I'll agree, it's quite a gruesome sight," he said, clearly not understanding how on the brink of such a discovery anyone could be sad.

"No Sir, I mean, our little project. It's over now." I said.

"I suppose you're right," agreed Spriteworth. "I suppose I'll just have to give you more detentions."

"I suppose I'll just have to start breaking more rules," I replied. We smiled and together began to laugh, and I suddenly realised how much I genuinely liked Spriteworth as a friend, and not that I really knew it at the time, but how much I was going to miss him.

_**A/N: Dun Dun Duuuhh! Ok, kind of a filler. So what, shoot me. I love Spriteworth, and I want all of you to love him too, but I hated the Skrewts and I was quite done with them so that's that done.**_

_**Slight deviation on book Narcissa, I'm aware, but maybe she was nice in Hogwarts, how are you to know? She will return more prominently, so I suggest you put your qualms to rest. **_

_**Also, I've always loved the Black boys and yes, the Black family do have the locket at this point. I'm about to go on a short hiatus for those few- if any- dedicated readers, so you won't be experiencing my usual chapter-every-three-to-four-day regime pestering your alert list, sorry about that, but I will continue to write and upload my new stuff after ten days or so. Keep reading and REVIEWING! Love you all **_


	19. The Calm After the Storm

I thought that a book that large on Animagi must have also included the history, development and a lot of other things I wasn't interested in, but no. The WHOLE THING was full of exercises and random transfiguration spells that one must do to complete the transformation. One night, we all sat in the common room after hours flicking through it by the dying embers of the fire.

"Bloody hell," said Sirius under his breath. I knew how he felt. I didn't like doing work at the best of times, but this seemed never ending.

"We'll need to find a place to practice all this," I agreed, ever practical. "I don't suppose we could share the restricted section with the Slytherins on a rota?" I joked. Definitely too soon.

"How about the room with the mirror?" Sirius suggested, ignoring my comment.

"I don't think Eris- uh- Spriteworth- would appreciate that." I said under my breath. The three looked at me questioningly, but I shook my head, refusing to indulge them with gossip about my favorite teacher.

"Fine then," said Remus. "As you and Sirius have undoubtedly learned on your midnight expeditions, there are many secrets held in the walls of the Hogwarts castle. It shouldn't be hard to find a location."

"Then we'll need that map!" squeaked Peter, terrified of the implications of being caught. He didn't get into trouble nearly as much as Sirius and I did, and the cloak was too small to fit all four of us. Remus was intent on joining, just in case we needed help, so the chances of us being caught became very high.

"I'm still working on the charm," said Remus, frowning. "The castle doesn't take kindly to unwanted enchantments. It's almost like I have to convince it I'm not going to hurt it. What I really need though, is for you to actually draw me the map!"

I groaned, becoming Animagi _and_ a map of the entire Hogwarts castle? This was just too much work for me to handle! I nodded silently, internally wishing Remus dead.

And that's what I was doing now, walking through the corridors of Hogwarts when I was supposed to be at Quidditch practice, finishing off Remus' precious map so that he could get to work immediately on trying to make the map that suited our needs.

I was on the fourth floor, at one of the smaller and less used stair cases where I knew there was another nook hidden behind a tapestry which I would have to document. I was still walking through, roughly sketching out every detail and wishing I knew how to charm my pen to do this more effectively when I heard a playful "Shh!"

I whipped my head around, but the staircase was deserted. there was only one place the sound could have come from. I glanced over at the tapestry, and it moved ever so slightly, as if blown by a non-existent breeze. I heard the shushing again followed by a faintly familiar giggle. I edged towards the tapestry, ears pricked, straining to hear what was being said inside. I heard a faint buzzing, but not nearly as loud as the one that I had heard when I performed the Muffliato charm. This must have been a poorly executed one. From my place near the nook, I could hear every word.

"Gabriel, Gabriel stop!" giggled a female voice. Gabriel Kramer, it had to be. That meant that the girl he had in there was Lily, _my_ Lily. I felt my blood begin to boil. My head told me to walk away, walk before I did anything stupid, but every muscle in my body seemed to be in disagreement, and remained frozen.

"You know you don't want me to stop," said the sly male voice. Kramer, definitely Kramer, nobody else would come up with such stupid lines.

"But someone might hear us!" protested the girl, Lily.

"Nobody comes by here anymore," then there was a silence. A deafening silence. I sat and waited, just in case they might say anything. I heard another giggle, indicating that the girl had moved away.

"You have the most infectious giggle," Kramer drawled. I gagged.

"Then why aren't you laughing too?" Lily challenged, still playful.

"I think you've met your match in me," he jeered, and then came another long silence. An uncomfortable feeling growled in my stomach, and a cold envy crept through my veins. My heart began to pump unreasonably quickly and violently, slamming against my ribcage, fighting to get out and scream at Lily, tell her to love _me_!

I couldn't stand it anymore. With my heart pushing me forward, I threw back the tapestry.

"Look here, I know it might be none of my business you draping from the lips of that git, Miss..."

"...Evans..." the word dropped from my mouth unnoticed as I stood awkwardly looking down at the kissing couple. I saw Kramer smiling jeeringly at me, almost glad that I was witnessing his accomplishment.

"Sophia?" I asked, incredulously.

The girl 'draping from the lips of that git' as I had so indelicately put it, was not Lily at all. It was Sophia, MY Sophia. Maybe I had no right to call Lily mine, but Sophia was, through and through, she had been for a whole year! What the hell was going on? I stood stunned, my mouth hanging half open.

"Sophia?" I repeated, god why was I so _pathetic_? Why couldn't I just shout at her or said something snide or _anything_ more that her name.

"Yes, James?" she asked contemptuously, standing. I was taken aback by her tone. Why was she angry at me? She was the one snogging Gabriel bloody Kramer behind a tapestry! This new surge of anger finally loosened my tongue. A torrent of snide remarks and insults flooded to my mouth, but that was for ranting to my friends later.

"What the hell are you doing here with this arrogant little son of a-"

"What do you care, James?" she asked frowning.

"I care because you're my girlfriend," I said with disbelief. How could she even ASK?

"I'm your _accessory_, James." she said flatly.

"I never said that!" I contested,

"You didn't need to! Tell me something James, why did you burst in here?"

"I-" how could I answer that? "I heard you in there..."

"You heard who? Me? How could you know that I was in there, Gabe is going out with..."

"Stop." I said. _Don't bring Lily into this_, I begged in my head. Lily seemed to complicate just about everything.

"Stop what, James?" she asked, a wicked fire burning in her eyes, "Have I said anything wrong here? You only came here because you thought it was Lily in here, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?"

"That's not fair..." I began.

"Not fair? NOT FAIR?" Sophia was in fully fledged fight mode now, "How do you like this for unfair? I had to sit next to you all year in charms and watch you ogle at Lily Evans, and I sat beside you and I watched you watch her and pretended not to care and you pretended that you liked me,"

"I did," I said weakly. Like the candle, I thought, like the candle that burnt softly, and didn't burn as badly. I watched on sadly as Sophia panted through her spiteful words until she finished, realizing with a strange kind of sadness that it only stung. It didn't burn. Not like Lily could. She was completely right. God damn you Lily Evans.

"... And the saddest thing is, James, that you love her. I can see it, I can tell. And it doesn't hurt either. It doesn't even matter."

Nobody talks about the calm after the storm, the part after the fight when you're left staring at the smoking ruins of the argument and in that moment there is an instantaneous and irreparable change. When you stand staring into the eyes of the aggressor, drawing in ragged breaths until they still and wait as that look that they return is blazed into your memory. And then you turn, wordlessly, and you leave.

But I couldn't leave. I couldn't just let go of what Sophia had done to me. Something in the very core of my being told me that pride wouldn't come to me if I simply accepted and left. I had to, for the sake of my own honor, stand up for myself.

"You bloody, arrogant prig." I said, turning on my heel and facing Kramer, who still had that look of accomplishment and defiance gleaming in his eyes. I drew my wand. I would hex it out of him if I had to. "I'll hex you into oblivion for this you digesting little..."

"JAMES POTTER PUT THAT WAND DOWN IMMEDIATELY!" demanded an authoritative, female voice from behind me. My body filled with dread.

"P-Professor McGonagall," I said, dumbstruck, wand still wavering in the air.

"We do not stand for the hexing of others into oblivion to solve petty disputes here in Hogwarts, Mr Potter," she said disappointedly.

"P-Professor I was just..."

"Coming with me." she interrupted.

"Where?" I asked, immediately wishing it were possible for a human to kick himself up his own backside. _Dumbledore's office you idiot_.

"We are going to go see what the Headmaster has to say about this. I have given you too many chances to reform your behavior already."

This might surprise you, but in my years at Hogwarts I was hardly a model student. Visits to Dumbledore's office were hardly uncommon. This meant that I was no longer stunned as I first was when the stone staircase appeared to take us up to his office. Nor was I impressed- as much- by his great collection of books piled on shelves which rocketed sky-high above my head. The man in front of me, however, managed to impress me every time.

Dumbledore stood in the centre of the room as if he had been expecting me for a while now. His intelligent blue eyes pierced right through to my mischievous centre and were already resolved that there was little he could do for a soul such as myself. So, he welcomed me with a reception rather warmer than McGonagall would have liked.

"James!" he said, throwing open his arms as if to greet and old friend.

"Good afternoon, Professor," I replied, shaking his hand.

"We really ought to stop meeting like this," he said in a kind of mockingly-stern voice.

"I really ought to stop getting caught," I agreed. Dumbledore let out a bellowing laugh, but McGonagall harrumphed from behind us.

"Mr Potter, Professor, was found about to hex another pupil," she interjected, rather hoping to get back to the subject of my misbehavior.

"Poor Gabriel Kramer must have been shocked," replied Dumbledore, gaining shocked expressions from both of us. He chuckled softly. "You underestimate me, Minerva. Very little happens in my school that I don't know about." He looked at me meaningfully, and I wondered if perhaps someone had noticed that the book on Animagi had disappeared from the restricted section.

"Yes, uh, very well then. I will leave you to punish him as you see fit." McGonagall nodded once to Dumbledore and then left the room.

"Did you manage to hex him in the end?" asked Dumbledore when he was quite sure that she had gone.

"I- Sir?" I asked confused, seeing a little glint in his eye.

"Mr Kramer, did you manage to hex him in the end?"

"No, Sir," I said slowly, unsure of where this was going.

"Well then I wouldn't worry too much about your sentence. Perhaps a few detentions with a few more discussions like those last Christmas eve." I nodded and turned to leave, but just before I did, I could have sworn I heard him mutter something under his breath.

"Shame, that Kramer boy had it coming to him."

"Sir?" I asked, turning back round.

"Nothing," he assured me, but I could have sworn I saw him wink


	20. Gather Your Armour, We're Going to War

Sophia and Gabriel Kramer became quite the item and topic of conversation over the next few days. They sat together on the Ravenclaw table every lunch, making fools of themselves, feeding each other and staring into each other's eyes and doing other sickening things like that. For once, I think Lily and I shared something in common, though it remained unspoken. We would both watch their nauseating displays of affection with critical eyes.

I could only imagine how Lily must have felt. Sophia was her friend. She had stood up for her when I first began to lead her on, and now she had spun around to shove a knife in the shape of Gabriel Kramer into her back.

"Get a room," said Lily through gritted teeth as we watched, sitting side by side but not quite together at the Gryffindor table.

"Tell me about it," I agreed begrudgingly. Lily gave me a half-smile. "What?" I asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Nothing, I just thought boys like you are supportive of each other's conquests," she said dismissively, but the half-smile still played on her beautiful lips. What I would give to kiss those lips...

"You underestimate me, Evans," I replied coolly.

"Do I?" she asked, very doubtful that she did.

"I don't support 'conquests' just for the glory of the win. Not if there's no feeling involved." Lily let out a little 'huh'. I raised my eyebrow again, waiting for her to elaborate.

"I didn't realize you cared so much for Sophia," she explained, somewhat sharply. I leant in with a sly smile, my nose brushing her ear, an action I had done many times with Sophia to make Lily jealous.

"Go on a date with me and you'll see how much I can care," I said in a low, husky voice. However, I didn't get the same reaction Sophia always graced me with. Lily instead went a deep scarlet and turned to face me. Once again I saw that fire and for a moment, I was almost afraid.

"You _animal_," she spat, and then pushed the bench- with me on it- violently away from the table and stormed off. That was unsuccessful, I thought casually, turning back to my meal. It was rare that my conversations with Lily ended any other way.

I determined not to be seen alone as long as Sophia was adamant to be on Kramer's arm. So, when Lily left I sought out the daring first year from the Quidditch match who had been so bold as to compliment my dashing handsomeness in my robes. She was sitting with a gaggle of other first year girls who fell silent the moment I sat down, each refusing to look me in the eye in a way that meant they had just been talking about me. I let a relaxed smile creep onto my face.

"Hey, James," said the bold girl.

"_Kaise_!" hissed a girl beside her. Kaise shot her a wicked smile. So _this_ was Kaise Sommerson, quite infamous in the rest of the school. She was a troublemaker and a half, Filched had caught her a total of once, but anyone who tried to raid the kitchens since the new year started would have seen her trademark symbol along with a strategically plucked fridge so there was one of everything left, anything else would have been obviously pinched and then we'd have a teacher after us. And of course, lying in the fridge would be a simple postcard depicting a sunset and was magically rigged to say 'Where the Sommer-Son sets'.

Sirius and I had found a way to foil her plan in our own quiet way, not wanting to fully disrupt the genius of her little scheme. The kitchens had a smaller, secondary fridge and a large larder piled with food, and with a duplication charm I had made up, we were able to slip in and out unseen.

"Ah, Miss Sommerson, we finally meet in person," I said. Under my breath, I uttered an unheard summoning charm, and as she smiled at me I felt something blown into my hand. I winked at her, brandishing the postcard.

"You're familiar with my work," she noted, unfazed by my oncoming charm. The others girls were all melting towards me, though maintained an icy envy towards her. Nonetheless we continued to banter, and Kaise held the conversation well, never losing control and keeping a slight barrier between us, not subjecting to my eloquent compliments as quickly as the others. From her eyes intelligence radiated.

We soon tired of meaningless conversation.

"Come on, James," she said finally, ceasing the laughter. "When are you going to ask me out?" A smile twitched at the edges of my mouth. This was why I found myself attracted to her in the first place. Sophia was shy and nervous, it took coaxing to get her to the powerful woman she would be with me. Kaise was already bold and daring, and she lead with that trait, rather than with her heart. She was young, James would hardly be puppy love, more like a stepping stone towards other, more REAL relationships.

"Kaise Sommerson," I began obligingly, "Will you go out with me?"

Kaise leant in close in a move that I had expertly executed with Lily not half an hour before. With plump lips on my ear she whispered, "Nope."

She leant back satisfied by another game successfully won. I frowned. Around me whisperings erupted, girls unable to understand how anyone could say no to me, quite as stunned as I was, although I didn't allow myself to be for long. I masked it quickly, though I maintained the frown, hoping that Kaise couldn't tell how much she'd knocked me off balance.

"Now, now, Miss Sommerson, have we thought this through?" I asked, the frown turning into that of a more concerned parent than a shot down teenage boy.

"Most certainly," she said assertively. "You're going to have to play a little harder."

I winked at Kaise again, and then I stuck out my hand. As Kaise took it, I pulled her in.

"Careful Kaise, I'm undefeated," I warned. Kaise plucked her hand from mine with a sly smile turning to her comrades who were staring open mouthed at our exchange, still in shock.

"We're all rooting for you," she said, the rest nodding their heads in fervent agreement. I smiled and left with a small, respectful nod of my head. Yes, for short term purposes it might have been better to seek out a weaker girl to parade around, but my own swollen ego knew that I could not lose.

So, during History of Magic, Sirius and I planned our opening move. As we sat with the enchanted piece for parchment on opposite ends of the classroom, Remus leant over to me and began to whisper.

"I don't understand this, James. All this over a girl?" Remus' judging tone however implied that he was not talking about the scheme which Sirius and I were blatantly breaking the rules for, but instead the extent to which I was using Kaise to spite Sophia. I smiled indignantly.

"She started it," I breathed, and then turned back as the butterfly landed back on my desk.

Something slapped down on my table at breakfast the next morning. I looked up to find Kaise's eyes glaring at me. I picked up the small clipping of paper she had thrown down, regarding it with pride and remembering the previous night. Sirius had suck down to the kitchens under the cover of the cloak before the clock struck for curfew, a large risk considering the number of teachers still out and the reason why raiding was always done after hours. Sirius and I followed Kaise's impressive strategy, leaving one of everything. The part I was most proud of however was sitting in my hands, our response to her little postcards.

"What's this?" she demanded through gritted teeth.

"You wanted to play," I chided. Kaise continued to glare at me with utter annoyance like that I had when I had stumbled in to see my raid plans foiled. However, quite like when I had first stumbled upon the freshly plucked fridge, she also looked impressed. Her anger fizzed out and she smiled mischievously.

"Well played, Potter," she noted, and then flounced off to join her posse.

"What's that?" asked Peter, who had been off dozing and clearly not listening to our plan as we excitedly laid it out for him and Remus before scurrying off to complete it.

I handed it to him, beaming with pride. It was a clipping from an Astronomy textbook I had found discarded, detailing the magnitude stars. This particular page was that of the biggest star and Sirius' namesake. It showed a picture of a large star and underneath the caption read; _James is always Sirius about his games_.

We returned to our dorm that night to find Kaise's retaliation.

"Bloody hell," breathed Sirius as we all stared at it with awe. This went far past disrupting Kaise's raid. By some great show of magic and ability, Kaise, lowly first year Kaise, had managed to somehow reverse the gravity of the room so that all our beds, cupboards and belongings were pulled to the ceiling above us while we all stared. She had definitely had some help with this one. As we gaped up, something fluttered down from the bed to rest in my hand, contesting the charm, which demanded it stayed up on the ceiling like the rest of the objects in the room.

It was, of course, a postcard with a sunset on it. _Where the Sommer-Son Sets_, sneered at us. I handed it to Sirius who clutched it into a ball.

"Gather your armour, boys," I said, glancing from the scrunched up postcard to our bewitched furniture, "We're going to war.


	21. The Great Romantic Gesture

Kaise's little trick was not actually a spectacular presentation of skill and talent, but instead a mass of Spellotape sticking all of our furniture to the ceiling. When finally I ran to grab my broom and flew back up, I saw it all cleverly hidden from view. Slowly we began to wrench off the Spellotape and slowly levitate the beds back down to the floor, then the bedside tables and then the rest of the furniture until everything was back to normal, by which time it was nearly midnight.

"She's clever," noted Remus, looking around at our restored dorm, our beds never having looked more inviting. "And determined."

"Perfect for you," Sirius agreed, crawling into bed and quit tired with the meaningless chatter, "You guys can both go and have clever determined children, alright? Now, good night!" he punctuated with a stab of his wand and the room went dark. I hastily crawled back into my own bed and shut my eyes, my next scheme festering in my mind as I slept.

The next week was hell.

It started two days after the dorm stunt, when Sirius and I got one better, following her example and Spellotaping her bed, closet, bedside table and a washing line of all her clothes to the roof of the third turret of the Gryffindor tower. She set off a dungbom and framed us, we set off a Fabulous Firework Facade and caused her to laugh and gained her a detention. Then came Kaise's reply, the Howler.

We were sitting at breakfast when the post arrived, and in my hand dropped a scarlet letter. I coiled away from it immediately, dropping it like a hot coal. Slowly, with a knife, Sirius flipped it over, address side up, to read the names in elegant calligraphy.

_James Potter and Sirius Black_.

We eyed each other worryingly. It was not uncommon for us to receive Howlers separately after an unsuccessful streak of kitchen raids or the numerous dungbombs found in Professor Flitwick's office- though I still maintain that I am innocent until proven guilty. However, the Howlers were always separate and more often than not caused tumultuous applause rather than jeering looks. But this one, penned with both our names, felt infinitely more foreboding.

As we watched, the letter began to struggle against its seal.

"We'd better open it," said Sirius, anxiously, "You know it'll be worse if we don't." I nodded, and picked up the Howler with a trembling hand and a weak smile, determined as I always was to take it as a joke, hoping that maybe everybody else would too.

The moment I touched the seal, the letter ripped itself open and with a great motion and rustling of paper.

"JAMES POTTER!" it bellowed, the whole great hall turning around. The teacher's table looked at each other, trying to figure out who was the last to send a letter to my parents. They all looked confused as no one claimed the letter to be their doing. The Howler continued with little indication as to why it was sent.

"YOU LITTLE, INSOLENT BOY! YOU THINK YOU'RE SO AMAZING DON'T YOU? LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING, YOU MOST CERTAINLY ARE NOT!" The Howler carried on in its shrill voice until it was evident that it was not here to tell us off for any one thing. Moreover, it wasn't from a scolding parent, despite the fact female voice had tried its best to imitate an older, authoritative woman.

"...AND WE ALL KNOW ABOUT THAT PAIR OF FRILLY PINK AND RED POLKA-DOTTED KNICKERS YOU REFUSED TO TAKE OFF FOR A WHOLE WEEK WHEN YOU WERE TEN YEARS OLD..." Sirius snorted, unable to hold in his hysterics as the howler made up colourful and imaginative insults. It was a big mistake. The Howler heard his chortling and turned abruptly.

"AND WHAT ABOUT YOU, MR SIRIUS BLACK? ARE YOU SOME KIND OF SAINT, UNLIKE YOUR FRIEND HERE? I DON'T THINK SO! YOU ARE EQUALLY AS IMMATURE AND UNCOUTH AS YOUNG MR POTER HERE! TAKE, FOR INSTANCE, GRYFFINDOR'S WINNING THE LAST GAME AGAINST THE RAVENCLAW HOUSE! DURING THE CELEBRATORY PARTY, YOU WERE GIVEN JUST ONE SHOT OF FIREWHISKEY AND WENT ABSOLUTELY CRAZY! NOT THAT I DON'T LIKE A GOOD TABLE DANCE, BUT I LIKE A _GOOD_ TABLE DANCE, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN?" Sirius' face flushed a bright red which meant that that bit was true, though I had been out cold in the infirmary at the time.

Up until that point, I had tried my best to ignore the Howler and hope that it would just go away, but now I began to listen. I soon noticed, that I recognized the voice, and turned to see Kaise, quite satisfied with her creation, sitting a little distance away. I stood, cutting the Howler off, and clapped my hands. Sirius, following my gaze, did the same, and Remus and Peter followed suit. Soon, the whole Gryffindor table was standing and applauding the beaming Kaise, who stood and did a ridiculous bow. The Howler the seems of its ripped envelope, and then burst into flames, ashen remnants fluttering to the ground.

I knew that the time had come, checkmate, the final blow. I was going to play my final move.

"Are you seriously doing this?" asked Sirius as he helped me set up in one of the empty classrooms on the second floor.

"James is always Sirius about his games," I chided, quoting the clipping we had left for Kaise.

"It seems a bit... Extravagant," agreed Remus, "and out of character, I would never have pegged you for this type," he gestured to the room we had transformed. I folded my arms and regarded it with a critical eye.

"That's exactly the point," I said. "It's perfect."

Luring Kaise into the room was the hardest part. We left her a note in the fridge she would inevitably raid tonight, but we couldn't be sure that she'd accept the invitation. This week would have put her on her guard, suspicious of anything Sirius and I said. However, for some reason, I knew she'd come. Out of that mutual respect we had for each other, she wouldn't leave one of my masterpieces unseen.

These thoughts were confirmed when Kaise appeared in the doorway of the classroom and gasped at our creation. I had lit the room with floating candles like those in the great hall, and they emitted a soft glow, bathing the room in gold. Along the floor, rose petals lay scattered in their thousands. Soft music floated from a pair of floating violins, but perhaps the biggest surprise was me. I felt like an idiot dressed in a pair of black trousers and a pristine white shirt, and my hair was unbearably neat. I had to resist every urge to rumple it as Kaise stared at me, and shift all my discomfort to the back of my head as I strode forwards confidently and took her hand, leading her in to the room.

"What do you think?" I asked, placing one hand on her hip and the other clutching hers, swaying slowly.

"It looks like a rose mass grave," she breathed and I chuckled. Clearly neither of us were ones for the great romantic gesture. I gazed at her for a moment with my best, smoldering look, trying to penetrate her bold nature, to puncture it. She looked down shyly, acknowledging she was defeated.

This was what I had meant when I told the boys this was perfect. Kaise was bold, strong. She refused to allow others to weaken her, hence she had not fallen so easily to my usual charms. She was used to having a boy's respect, but not attention. In a way, we were well suited. She didn't like to be fawned over and I certainly didn't fawn, so now, I caught her off guard.

As we danced slowly, I realized that I didn't mind this so much. Kaise was just a rebound, I tried to remind myself, but I wondered at the same time if it would be so bad to actually like her.

After a little while, Kaise looked back up and I caught her eye.

"You have gold... In your eyes..." I noted awkwardly.

"I know," she replied, "So did my grandmother," I let out a little 'huh', as if I were interested.

"They're beautiful," I assured her, following social protocol, completely unsure of how to maintain conversation when we weren't being snide or playing a game.

"We don't have to talk, James," she assured me, noticing my suffering.

"Then what should we do?" I asked with a hint of a smile, returning to my old self. In reply, Kaise reached her hand up and stroked the nape of my neck, pulling my head down towards hers. I complied, waiting until her lips touched mine.

The kiss was different than that first one with Sophia. This one was more natural, more exciting. Kaise was more confident than Sophia had ever been, and didn't just allow me to lead or wait until it was over. She fully immersed herself in the kiss, pulling me closer towards her instead of just waiting until I wanted to do so. We stopped swaying, the motion between our lips taking away the rest of our enter and concentration. Finally, she pulled away.

"Well played, James," she said through swollen lips. I smiled at her.

"I only play for the prize," I assured her. For a moment I was afraid she would go 'Evans' on me and lecture me on the sexism behind objectifying women, but Kaise only smiled back respectfully.

"I suppose I can't complain," she remarked, still holding the nape of my neck, "You're a great kisser,"

She pulled me down and we kissed again and for a moment, I thought I heard someone snicker. As if someone were watching us.

I opened my eyes and looked in the direction the sound had come from, but saw nothing. It seemed, however, that my secondary plan had worked. The cloak bearing my three friends rustled against the rose petals on the floor giving them away. I didn't mind, however, that they we intruding on such a personal moment, because they could now see my plan clearly, and once again be reassured that James is always serious about his games.

Kaise pulled away again, noticing my hesitation. "Everything all right, James?"

"Yeah, just fine," I said distantly as the rose petals nearest the door shuffled ever so slightly.

"I suppose I'd better go," she said, looking the the same direction.

"No, no," I insisted, seeing how my actions could have been misconstrued as rude.

"Don't worry, James, I'll see you at breakfast. Then we can make a show just as big as Sophia and the bloody Kramer's." I need my mouth to respond, but she shushed me with fingers on my lips. "It doesn't take a genius to see what you're doing, James, but if you were going to do it with me, you would have had to have worked for it first."

I smiled at Kaise's wits as she left, and wondered if perhaps, beside all the Lily that filled my heart, I could find a place for Kaise


	22. The Come and Go Room

Kaise was never mine. Not in the way Sophia had been, or in that way that I had hoped Lily would eventually be. We were equally each other's and at the same time completely separate. But people still knew of us. Our week of constant pranking had not gone unnoticed, and now _we _were the cute couple with the interesting story, without all of the cutesy prods and pokes that Sophia and Kramer were _still _performing on the Ravenclaw table. But Sophia had been right, it didn't even matter to me.

Kaise proved to be a valuable member of our team. Whereas we had mostly hidden our night raids and pranks from Sophia, Kaise would actively take part in them, and without worrying about midnight snacks- Kaise having had them sorted- we could focus on other things. The number of dungbombs found in first year classes sky-rocketed.

We never showed her the cloak, though. The cloak remained sacred to me, something that only we the boys shared. We knew with some innate fibers of ourselves that the cloak would stay between us, no matter how many girls came into our lives. The cloak had to stay a secret.

That meant that we were suddenly forced into the open at night, making every nightly excursion much more dangerous. We learnt to sneak around more quietly and subtly, making note of what appeared to be each patroller's area, and most of all the blind spots. As we went, Remus would practice his spells on the castle floors, but most were futile. Now and then a name would appear on the map for all of two seconds before the castle realised what we were doing and shook off the enchantment. Each time, Remus would harrumph with disappointment.

"I really don't know what more I can do!" he hissed at us as the name dissolved back into parchment. "The castle is simply impervious to trouble makers! You're going to have to find somewhere much more private for your... hehhem... furry little problem meetings." he shot a suspicious look at Kaise, who was listening with marginal interest. In the true spirit of tricksters, she knew not to ask about schemes or to pry too much.

"Why don't you guys use the Room of Requirement?" she asked nonchalantly. Sirius halted, holding out an arm as Professor Flitwick tottered across the corridor we were about to turn into. We all pressed ourselves against the wall as he looked around him before walking once again.

"The what?" I asked, looking around at Sirius and Remus, Peter, of course, having been too afraid to come down with us without the cloak and who was probably snoring loud enough to wake the dead back in our dorm.

"The Room of Requirement," she repeated, cocking an eyebrow. When we stared back at her blankly, she chuckled. "I would have thought you had heard of it."

"What is it?" Sirius asked inquisitively, not appreciative of Kaise's slightly condescending tone.

"We read about it in invisible ink in one of the copies of _Hogwarts: A History, _it said that the Room exists somewhere in Hogwarts, usually to be found on the seventh floor."

"Yes," Sirius said exasperatedly, "But what _is _it?"

Kaise smiled. "That's just the thing. It can be whatever you want it to be."

From then on, our mission was clear. Find the Room of Requirement. We never brought it up when near Kaise, in case she began asking questions about our use of it, but on the nights we weren't out with her, we were under the cloak looking for it.

The only problem was, how do you look for a room without a door?

Yes, during our travels Sirius and I found many a shortcut which would prove useful and which we plotted eagerly on the map, but we peered into every classroom and closet in vain. Sometimes, in a particularly well hidden room we suspected, we would stand for and hour casting every revealing charm we knew until it became apparent that it was just another room, like the rest of them. We had searched the seventh floor from end to end. Then we searched the sixth floor. And the fifth. And the fourth. All the way to the dungeons we searched. But nothing.

"You're not making it easy for us," I said, wearily staring up at the ceiling and talking to no-one in particular.

"Nobody said it'd be easy," chided Sirius.

"It's alright guys," Remus shrugged. "You don't have to do all this for me." Peter looked expectantly at me, waiting for me to argue back, not wanting to be the one to have to do it when he was already so terrified of getting into trouble.

"It's gone way past being about you, mate," I said, "You can't be the only one who gets a cool animal counterpart!" Remus opened his mouth to protest that being a werewolf was not _cool _and that our counterparts would get us all a one way ticket to Azkaban, but he restrained himself, simply nodding to me in appreciation. I had taken all of the responsibility off him.

"Which is why we have to find the Room of Requirement!" piped up Peter, overcoming his momentary hesitation to agree with me whole-heartedly. "Which is why tonight, I'm coming with you!"

We all looked at him skeptically.

"Really, Peter?" asked Sirius. "I don't think it would make any difference if you were there or not. We've scoured every corner of the castle, there's nothing. It's probably just a myth conjured by four troublesome boys like ourselves during their time in Hogwarts. There probably wasn't that much else to entertain themselves with."

"No!" shrieked Peter, adamant. "If it was written by a few boys like ourselves, it would be to _future _troublemakers! They would _want _us to find it! And this time, _I'll _be with you!" Peter was standing by this point, chest puffed up proudly as if it were some massive turning point in the plot-line. We all stifled laughs, nodding seriously with him. We all knew that Peter wasn't going to make a major change to our search, in fact it would probably be more of a hinderance, but we all saw how much it seemed to mean to him, so for his own sake we all agreed to take him that night to the seventh floor.

As it turned out, that was the night I learnt to trust Peter. Ironic. But more on that later.

The cloak didn't fit four, but Peter knew that when he joined us. He knew he was taking the risk of walking visible to the naked eye. Therefore, whereas his steps beneath the cloak were loud, more like stomps- even though we tried to convince him it was impervious to _sight, _not _sound,- _that night they were soft. Even more so, perhaps, than my own. His terror of being caught was also his biggest asset.

We crept past sleeping portraits, trying our best not to wake them up as we crept up the now dormant stairs to the seventh floor. The journey was filled with hushes, stumbles, and once a near-miss with Mrs Norris, but finally we reached the seventh floor, patrolled by Professor Slughorn, who was snoring in his chair, large tortoise-shell glasses balancing precariously on the tip of his nose.

We took Peter up and down the corridor countless times, showing him each empty classroom one by one. He paused for a moment to giggle at a tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet. As one of the trolls raised its arm sudo-gracefully, a bird flew by and was caught in its grip. The delicate facade was quickly broken as all the other trolls pounced on the one who was greedily bringing the still struggling bird to its wet lips. Peter let out a loud squeal of laughter.

"Shh!" all three of us said instinctively, dropping to the ground as we listened. In the distance, a chair scraped across the floor, and the snoring had ceased. Peter, who was still standing, began to pace nervously as footsteps came our way.

"We just wanted to find somewhere to practice," he said under his breath, turning for the first time. The rest of us waved him over, trying to get him to sit down and be quiet, but nervous Peter took no instructions from anybody. He simply continued to pace, terrified.

"We just wanted to help Remus," he muttered, turning again.

"Peter!" Sirius cried as the footsteps grew increasingly loud. But Peter kept on muttering and pacing. As he turned on his heel for the fourth time, however, we all gasped.

Right there, as we watched the wall opposite the tapestry, a small dot of brown appeared on the stone wall. It began to fester, spreading across the cool grey slabs until it began to take shape, clearly made from heavy wood. The wood ran up the middle of the wall and then split down the two sides, crawling out and filling in the space in the middle until it was the shape of a large door, complete, under our gaze, with a shiny silver handle.

Peter stared at it elated for a moment as we heard Slughorn's footsteps quickly approaching. We ran through the door and pulled Peter in behind us, not bothering to look around the room as we threw ourselves against the door again as it closed, ears pressed to the wood, which became obligingly spongy so that we could listen in. We all shared petrifying thought for a moment. What if the door didn't disappear as quickly as it had appeared?

As we listened, footsteps came up to the door and paused. We all held our breaths before we heard a chuckle, and Slughorn walked back to his chair, obviously having simply looked and laughed at the tapestry before going back to sleep.

We all breathed a sigh of relief, unheard by Slughorn as the door became hard once again, and turned to look about the room.

All manner of items lined shelves that ran across the room. Mice squealed in cages, birds tweeted next to mugs and matchboxes and other seemingly random items. Items perfect, I realised, for the exercises one must do before attempting to become an animagus. Turning animate objects animate and vice-versa took up an entire third of the book. One exercise even required mice in particular in the hope that one could turn them into rats.

"Hey, James, look at this!" yelled Sirius from the other side of the cavernous room. I crossed from my place at one shelf to where he was standing, regarding himself in a mirror. There were two identical mirrors beside it, and above all three were golden plaques, each with our name on them. I stood and looked in the mirror labelled _James. _As I watched, my reflection waved back at me, although my hand was still. I jumped and it began to laugh, before winking.

The final chapter required one to turn their own reflection into an animal before trying yourself. I stared at the mirror, so this was what it meant. I cracked a wide smile, looking back at my friends.

"_You need only ask. _That's what it said in the book. I borrowed it once when I forgot my copy of _Hogwarts: A History. _I knew I could find it." Peter was smiling, sitting down in one of the couches the Room and given us, probably realising we would be too stunned and amazed to stand for long.

"It's perfect, Peter," I praised, hands on hips, excited about the journey to come.

"We ought to plot this on the map!" Sirius said excitedly, pulling it out from the waistband of his pyjamas, where it had found its home during our nightly excursions.

"No," I said, holding up a hand. "Not this room. This one stays between us."

_**A/N: It is really hard to write Peter without prejudice, knowing how everything turned out, so in order to spite my own prejudice I gave him a major role in this chapter. I also contemplated waiting a while for the Marauders to find the Room, but there wasn't much else they could do but search, so I gave it to them easily. Becoming aimagi and the map is not going to be as much of a cake-walk, believe you me. And, for those of you who are more padantic, here's why I think the Room of Requirement doesn't show up on the map.**_

_** Guten, hope you enjoyed, if there's anything you particularly want to see or shout at me about, feel free to review, or just review anyway, Ok? Cool. Catch you later**_


	23. Lesson 1: Ears

The first time we managed to slip away back to the Room of Requirement was in fact the day that Remus had to sneak off back down the tunnel through to the whomping willow to become a werewolf. We managed to convince Kaise that he was ill and we had to take care of him that night. It wasn't hard considering how pasty Remus got right before the full moon.

We snuck up much less quietly than anticipated, lugging the massive Animagus book with us. It was fine, Slughorn slept like a rock. Nonetheless, we tried to close to door to the Room as quietly as possible.

Today, in anticipation for the first task to complete, a desk stood in the middle of the room holding three boxes. Each had within them a reluctant mouse, squeaking pathetically. I walked confidently to the desk, placing the book down on it and turning to my two companions. They looked anxious.

"You two look as if you've seen a ghost!" I exclaimed looking at them. "What's wrong? Don't tell me you're werewolves too?"

"James," Sirius hissed, "The book!" As I whipped around, I saw the book where I had placed it on the table, sinking as if it had suddenly gained an incredible amount of weight. Before we knew it, it had pulled a hole through the table and was sinking through the floor. I dove at it immediately, gripping the book tightly in my fingers, but I felt it being pulled from me, something trying to wrench it out of my hands. I held my breath, using up all my strength to pull the book from the floor, feeling myself sink into it.

"James!" Peter cried as I began to sink with the book. I could feel the enchantment on it straining. _Just a little bit longer, _ I told myself. Peter launched himself at my feet, grabbing my ankles, followed by Sirius on the other side, trying to grab the book as well. When that became obviously futile, he simply held my head up, aware that the enchanter was growing tired. It would take a lot of power to penetrate the Room of Requirement to perform such a powerful spell, professor standard, but it must have also been taxing.

Peter stood again, realising that he wasn't really doing anything of value, where something caught his eye. He ran to the corner and I heard a gasp. At exactly that point, the floor sprung back up and I was left sprawling on the floor, the book clutched tightly to my chest, panting. My muscles burned.

"James!" Peter exclaimed, scurrying over to us, "James! There was a tunnel! It led under the room! There was a light coming from it, the spell, I know it was!"

"Where is it, Peter?" Sirius asked hurriedly. Peter pointed a trembling finger to the corner where a scarlet banner was hanging.

"Behind there, it closed up when I found it."

"It was under the Room," I said breathlessly, "but still part of it. It wouldn't have taken as much magic as I thought. That means it could be anybody." I shut my eyes and waited for my strength to return before propping myself up and looking around the room.

"Whoever it is sure doesn't want us becoming Animagi," said Peter, glancing nervously about the room.

"Whoever it is," said Sirius, "they're gone now. We'll be more specific about the _lack _of a hidden tunnel next time."

"You're right," I said, getting to my feet and drawing out my wand. "Let's get started."

We opened the book to the first chapter, _Basic Metamorphosis_.

_The most basic form of animated metamorphosis, _it read, _is changing a very small animal, a mouse or vole, into another very small animal. This chapter (the first of three) will teach you how to perform the metamorphosis from mouse to cat. This example can be applied with most other animals, but is suggested as it is the most complicated kind. Every other kind of basic animated metamorphosis will be easier after this._

_Lesson one: Ears._

"Ears?" Sirius asked, "are you certain?"

"That's what it says here," I said, pointing at the spindly green writing.

"Read it, read it!" Peter insisted impatiently.

I skimmed the rest of the paragraph and looked back at the two of them. "In a nutshell," I began, "We have to make these mice grow cat's ears." The two stared blankly back at me.

"Cats?"

"Cats." I confirmed. "Without words."

"_Nonverbal _magic!" Peter spluttered, "are you _serious?_"

"Nobody said it'd be easy," I reminded him.

"Yes, but they also didn't say it'd be so bloody _difficult!_" Sirius rebuked. I shrugged, drawing out my wand.

"Let's just start with words, and later we can focus on without." I waved my wand as directed and spoke the incantation. My wand spat out a few blue sparks, but otherwise nothing happened. "Well, come on you two!" I urged them, and they each stepped up to their own cage of mice and began to try the spell. After about ten minutes had passed, both Sirius and my mice were sporting large, ginger cat's ears. Peter, however, was still furiously poking his wand and bellowing the incantation to no avail. Sirius and I rolled our eyes. Maybe it would just have been better if just the _two _of us became Animagi.

"Peter, try to focus more," Sirius implored him, resting a hand on his shoulder. I walked around from my place opposite them and put my hand on Peter's other shoulder.

"C'mon, Peter," I coaxed, "you can do this." Peter nodded, drawing in a deep breath and screwing his eyes up tight, letting the incantation roll off of his tongue with an odd air of lightness to it, an intangibility neither of us had quite managed. The mouse contorted, and then two cat's ears shot out of each side of his head.

"Well done, Peter!" I cried, squeezing his shoulder and shaking him. He beamed at me. He lived for my praise.

The next step, nonverbally, proved exceedingly difficult. As hard as I focused and concentrated I simply could not make my now-quite-content-to-have-its-ears-back mouse back into the crossbreed monstrosity. I blared the incantation in my head, letting it drown all my other thoughts. Discipline, I knew, was the key; to not have any thoughts. This masking of other thoughts definitely wasn't fooling anyone.

I breathed out coolly and relaxed my face, allowing my mind to go blank. Then, I tried a different technique. Instead of making the words loud and powerful, I instead made them light, easy, like Peter had. I didn't try to imagine them as big, bold letters, but instead as something natural, formless. Beside me, Peter caught his breath.

"_James!_" Peter cried ecstatically, "You did it!"

I opened my eyes to find my mouse quite distressed, hopelessly pawing at the massive ears that dominated its head and smiled. I explained to Sirius what I had done, and it seemed to work for him too after another few minutes, but for Peter the feat was impossible, although it was he that inspired the idea.

It was one in the morning by the time we retired, much too drained to possibly carry on, dragging our limp bodies up to the Gryffindor tower weakly under the cloak, making no effort this time to be quiet despite having left the book behind, asking the Room to keep it in a place where nobody could get to it, that certainly being safer than our dorm where it could be seen by anybody.

I received a shock that morning then when the list went up on the notice board in the common room for the people staying at Hogwarts over Christmas. Was it December already? I knew that this year, as the last, my parents would be off on some adventure in Tasmania, but as I moved to grab a pen and sign my name, a hand caught mine.

"Uh, not quite, mate," Sirius said, avoiding my eye as I looked up at him.

"Why not?" I asked, confused.

"I- uh- my parents weren't to happy about my absence last year. My dad kind of unbreakable-vowed me into it." _Unbreakable vow? _I wondered, almost repulsed. Who tied a kid to a promise, knowing that if they broke it they'd die? What kind of father would do that? Unfortunately, knowing about Sirius' family, I wondered if they didn't just make him vow hoping he'd break it. I looked over at Sirius, hoping my gaze wasn't blatantly pitiful. A wide smile cracked him face.

"It's not all bad though," he said cheerfully, "I managed to slip in a condition, as long as he allowed you to come too, and Remus. So, I guess you have to come, if you don't want my dad to die..." I opened my mouth and then closed it again, unsure of a response.

"C'mon, Remus said he could come! Peter's got some thing with his parents but I never made it absolute that he had to come. _Please?_"

"O-of course," I stammered, smiling and rolling my eyes at my own hesitation.

"Thanks, mate," said Sirius, pulling me into a bear hug, more grateful than he had shown in his words, but I knew how sincerely he meant it. "Number 12 Grimmauld Place," he said, smiling at me, "You're gonna love it."

Of course, when I arrived, number 12 Grimmauld Place didn't exist.


	24. 12 Grimmauld Place

There was nobody there to meet us at the train station when we arrived, and no sign of Bellatrix, Regulus, Narcissa or their parents. Sirius chuckled ironically when he realised.

"Nice one, Dad" he said under his breath.

"What's going on, Sirius?" Remus asked, and eyebrow cocked.

"Oh it's just my brilliantly comedic family," he explained, grabbing his trunk and gesturing for us to do the same as we left King's Cross all together. "This is his little Christmas message. You want to act like a muggle, you're going to have to travel like one." As he said this, he stuck out his hand and waited for a taxi. It took a substantial amount of time to find a taxi that would take us all the way out to the residential areas of London, but when finally Sirius produced some gold galleons desperately, the fifth driver was eager to comply.

"Number 11, Grimmauld Place, please," Sirius said to the driver while Remus lugged his trunk into the back, the boot of the car filled up with mine and Sirius' luggage.

"If I were seventeen," Remus grumbled, "I'd have them all fitting back here in an instant." I, however, was not listening. I was looked at Sirius with my eyebrows furrowed. What did he mean, number 11? He lived on number 12, I was sure of it. I had given Peter the address to send us letters over the holidays not half an hour ago, when we disembarked the train. It was unlikely that he remembered it now, but I certainly did.

My answer came soon enough. Number 12 Grimmauld place didn't exist.

Sirius seemed quite unfazed by his lack of residence as Remus and I stared at the house

numbers, 10, 11, 13, paying the taxi driver the promised galleon and thanking him for driving us. He then walked turned to make sure nobody was watching, and then walked directly towards the gap between houses eleven and thirteen. He might have whispered something, but we couldn't have been sure. All we knew was that all of a sudden, 12 Grimmauld Place existed and Sirius was beckoning us over, melting through the dark doorway and out of sight. We hurriedly picked up our trunks and followed, not wanting the house to disappear again.

The inside of 12 Grimmauld place was much larger than it looked from the outside. Looking up, we could see miles and miles of twisted staircases leading off to several separate rooms.

"Knowing my family," Sirius began gravely, "we're at the top."

Our bedroom being at the top of the building proved worse than Remus and I had thought, because it meant of course that we would have to drag our heavy trunks up several flights of stairs completely wandless seeing as we were only twelve. When finally we reached the top, we were sweaty and panting. It had only been about five minutes before Narcissa, or Cissy, and Regulus appeared in our doorway. They looked so happy and inviting I almost forgot about Sirius' family problems, or my own guilt around Regulus, which had dulled since I had learnt that he hadn't been hurt again.

"Guess what, Sirius?" Cissy asked, excited, "Andromeda and the baby are here for Christmas!"

"Is that why?" Sirius mused, "Crikey, the house _has_ had to get big to fit all of us in!" The two nodded in agreement and came in to sit down on Sirius' bed. I looked around his bedroom which had been pushed to the top of the house, but where Sirius assured me it normally wouldn't be. In contrast to the deep greens draped around the rest of the house, Sirius had created his room with blaring defiance. Red and yellow Gryffindor banners hung from the walls along with various Gryffindor flags and Quidditch posters. Most controversially, many football posters which _didn't _move, muggle posters. On his bedside table, I saw the picture of the four of us friends that Peter had gotten us all the Christmas before. Had it really been a whole year?

"She's _so _cute! She's a _metamorphmagus _you know." Cissy was saying, still talking about Nymphadora. Sirius had guffawed at the name.

"She's certainly going to have a hard time when she grows up! Might as well call herself Tonks, like her father..." Sirius trailed off. Touchy subject.

"Mum says we invited her to try and settle the tension." Cissy said, unsure.

"It's definitely not going to settle anything," Regulus said, shaking his head, "But it'll sure be fun to watch!" The three laughed. Remus and I were confused. It must have showed clearly on our faces because Cissy gave a little cough and the brothers turned around to look at us.

"Oh, of course!" Cissy gave a little tinkling laugh, moving towards us, perching on the edge of Remus' bed, leaning in close to him. Instinctively, Remus and I leant in closer. There was something about her, something that radiated from her shiny blonde hair, that hid in her rebellious black streaks, that escaped in flutters when she giggled. It cried _you want me, just give in. _And yet_, _it was all surrounded by an innate kindness.

"You don't know about our little family dramas!" She continued, but the other two scoffed, saying it was hardly 'little'. "Our sister Andromeda, married Ted Tonks. A muggleborn. As you could imagine, this did not go down well in our family," she gestured around the room at Sirius' blatant defiance. "And they had a daughter. Now, she's here with their baby! My mother's absolutely fuming, but Aunt Walburga- Black by marriage, obviously- is being all diplomatic giving her a chance, it's so tense down there!" Cissy laughed again.

"_Fascinating,_ I know," Regulus said, interrupting the moment. I turned back to them, a wide smile on my face, but in the corner of my eye I could still see Remus and Cissy, slightly leant in to each other before shaking it off, turning back to integrate with the rest of us.

Then, Sirius sniffed. He sniffed again. The rest of us did as he did, noticing the same burning smell.

"Reg," Sirius began tentatively, "Mum's not _cooking, _is she?" The sentence would have been comical if a grave look hadn't cast a shadow over their faces.

"Merlin," Sirius muttered under his breath. "It's _that _bad."

"Blowing Uncle Alphard off the family tree bad," Cissy nodded, solemnly. It seemed odd to me, then, that this was the woman who had chosen to put a fight to rest when it came to something like 'blood-traitors'- as the Pro-Voldy propaganda posters were calling them. And then, I realised. Maybe she wasn't aiming to settle trouble, but to stir up more.

"KREACHER!" Sirius yelled angrily, and from the other side of the room there was a loud, somewhat reluctant _crack. _From where the sound had originated stood a weary little body, beaten by years of servitude. Kreacher, the Black family house elf, was small and sickly looking with a crooked nose. Sirius had always talked about him with contempt, describing him as an ugly little thing. It was understandable why.

"Yes, _Master _Sirius?" Kreacher asked, emphasizing the word 'master' as if it were an insult.

"I know that you're an idiotic little wretch, Kreacher," Sirius snarled cruelly, "But why the _hell _would you let my mother cook?" He spat the word at him, as if scolding a little child. Kreacher scowled deeply.

"Mistress Walburga can do as she likes." Kreacher objected, sticking his little fists into his waist.

"You know what happens when she _cooks, _Kreacher. She's always up to something when she's _cooking. _And it's Christmas Eve for God's sake! I want to actually _eat _tonight."

"Master Sirius is very rude about his mother," Kreacher said, glowering even more darkly. Sirius returned the look with equal venom.

"I can do whatever I like, Kreacher." Sirius said testily.

"Kreacher disagrees."

"Let's see you try to disagree with no teeth in that smug little mouth of yours!" Sirius roared, lifting a hand to strike the house elf.

"SIRIUS!" Regulus called out, launching himself at him and pulling them both down to the ground so that Sirius' punch missed its target, Kreacher, who leapt out of the way with an unnaturally pitched yelp. Regulus stood and dusted himself off, going to the shaking house elf.

"It's Ok, Kreacher," he assured him. "Just help our mother in the kitchen, will you? It would probably be good for her to have an extra eye on the cooking, especially seeing as you're such an expert." The house elf beamed at the compliment before shooting an insolent look over at Sirius and disappearing with a _crack._

"So _that's _Kreacher," I commented nonchalantly. Sirius nodded. "Charming."

"C'mon!" Cissy said, shaking off the awkwardness of the moment, breaking through the wall of tension brought up between the brothers. "I want to see what colour Nymphadora's hair is now!"

"First one to call her Tonks and not Nymphadora gives the other a sickle," Sirius muttered.

"You're on," Regulus agreed, and they shook hands with customary sibling rivalry. As it turned out, the nickname stuck.

_**A/N: It's official, I LOVE writing about the Black family. I think that Narcissa and Regulus are actually sympathetic characters and love their connection as cousins. I also like the irony of Remus meeting his newborn wife-to-be. That was amusing to me.**_

_**But enough about what I like, what do you like? Review my lovelies, more coming soon**_


	25. Hell Hath No Fury Like Walburga Black

Nymphadora Tonks was without a doubt the cutest baby I had ever seen in my life, expect for maybe you, Harry. Of course, it would probably be hard to say that with complete certainty because she kept changing her appearance every five seconds, but there was something innately adorable about her mannerisms.

We all traipsed down two flights of stairs to see her every day, where she would be sitting in Andromeda's arms. Andromeda was somewhere in the middle of Bellatrix and Narcissa in looks. She had Bellatrix's dark eyes, but Narcissa's kindness, and her hair was neither black nor blonde but light brown. She was clearly favoured by Cissy, though, who went up to her older sister smiling whilst Bellatrix stalked past her room, muttering something about treachery and 'mudblood spawn'.

As we approached Tonks, her eyes lit up with glee and she immediately changed her light brown hair to a long, blonde-and-black-streaked mess, greeting her aunt. Narcissa knelt by her, gratefully accepting the bundle of baby from a tired looking Andromeda. The rest of us gathered around and Tonks, bombarded with new faces to mimic, turned her hair black and short with my hazel eyes. To be fair, to a baby her age Sirius, Regulus and I probably did look like brothers with our messy black hair, so it was understandable why we became boring to her when she saw Remus, and with a tremendous smile she copied his light brown hair and style, changing her eyes to match his and even mimicking the new scars on his cheeks. Andromeda gasped.

"She's never been able to show that much detail before!" She said excitedly.

"She must like you, Remus!" Cissy said, as Tonks reached her podgy little arms out towards Remus. She handed her to him, and Tonks giggled loudly. Remus tenderly stroked her cheek, laughing as she grabbed his finger in her little fist and squeezed. It was a beautiful and heart warming exchange, so of course we had to make a joke out of it before actual feelings were expressed.

"Nymphadora Lupin, how does that sound?" Sirius mused, proudly slapping a sickle into Regulus' hand, worth the joke. I rolled on the floor laughing.

"Don't be ridiculous," Remus chided, although it just came out as a coo, his affection for Tonks still painting his expression a sickening rosy hue. Cissy and Andromeda watched him with Tonks admiringly as he made her smile and laugh, and from somewhere in the back of the room emerged the figure of Ted Tonks, Andromeda's husband, who came to watch as well. He placed a protective hand on his wife's shoulder, who instinctively placed her hand back over his.

After about a minute, Ted spoke up, stepping awkwardly in between the semi-circle to relieve Remus of his daughter.

"There we go, Tonks," he said, lifting her into the air and chuckling at how the new nickname sounded. "Daddy's here." When he lifted Tonks to see his face, however, nothing happened. She maintained Remus' features, craning her head back to get a look at him again. Ted frowned. "Looks like this one's faulty," he said, taking her under the arms and shaking her, gaining screeches of laughter from Tonks. "Think we ought to get a new one, Dromeda."

"Careful with her, Teddy," Andromeda chided, taking the baby into her capable hands. At the appearance of her mother, Tonks changed her features once more, and Andromeda turned with a smug smile to Ted, who furrowed his eyebrows. I turned back to the group to see an odd expression on his face. Was it... jealousy maybe? Jealousy of this child, who would grow up with loving parents who had no pure-blood expectations of her? Probably. I caught Sirius' eye and he immediately pulled a face, trying to shake off whatever it was he was feeling. I pulled one back and turned back to marvel at Tonks.

At that moment, Bellatrix marched into the room.

"Dinner's almost ready," she spat at her older sister, hatred burning in her eyes as she stared malevolently at the baby Tonks, who did not dare change her appearance to match that of her aunt, who was staring at her with detestation. "Try to look a little better than you do." Then she turned and flounced off. Andromeda sighed.

"She'll come around," Cissy said soothingly. "She said 'hi' to Sirius when he walked in, and he's not even in Slytherin!"

"Hey!" Sirius said, holding up both hands, palms facing outwards.

"Not like you've made much of a secret of it, mate," Regulus reminded him, referring to Sirius' red and yellow bedroom.

We departed the room and went back upstairs, taking it in turns to shower and putting on our dress-robes. For some reason, Remus spent more time in front of the mirror than usual, flattening his hair, then messing it up, then flattening it again.

"Would you move out of the way, _Princess_, some of us have ties to straighten," said Sirius, fiddling with the black tie Kreacher had bitterly brought him earlier, telling him his mother wanted him to wear it. Sirius had replied with a colourful chain of swear words.

"Does this look alright?" Remus asked, ignoring the 'princess' comment.

"You look marvelously spiffing," Sirius mocked. Remus shrugged, messed up his hair again and moved obligingly out of the way so that Sirius could puzzle over the tie once more, this time in his reflection instead.

I myself hadn't worn my dress-robes since a distant cousin's wedding two years ago, when I was significantly shorter and chubbier, and was having trouble enough without magic trying to make myself look presentable. I had never needed to wear something so formal for a celebration like Christmas Eve, and began to feel apprehensive about what this meant for the rest of the evening. Unfortunately, I would never know because I would be stuck up in this room dying of embarrassment before I went down in these robes.

"Dromeda worked in Madame Malkin's for a while after she left Hogwarts," Sirius suggested, noticing me desperately trying to pull down my sleeves.

"Would she really want to help me?" I asked meekly, giving up on the sleeves. "I am, after all, one of _your _friends."

"Definitely. There's a reason she's my favorite cousin, you know," he said matter-of-fact-ly, tucking his uneven tie out of view and driving me out of the door of his bedroom and down the stairs. I reached the bedroom door and knocked timidly. The door was opened by Ted, who welcomed me in.

"Tonks is napping," he said, apparently having taken a liking to calling his daughter by her second name. The pretentious name probably wasn't his idea after all. "I'll get Dromeda for you."

Just as he whispered her name, Andromeda appeared from the en-suite bathroom, tying her wet hair back in a ponytail and dusting off her dress. She walked over to Tonks' cot, patting her stomach. "You've ruined me, you know that?" she said, gesturing to the small lump left over on her once-pregnant belly.

"You look beautiful, Dromeda," Ted said, rolling his eyes. She did too. It wasn't the conventional beauty seen in _Witch Weekly_, a copy of which was lying discarded over an armchair. It wasn't some kind of 'glow of motherhood', either. But it was close. It was love. The love that shone from her small subset of a family as they looked at her, the way Ted's eyes lit up when she began to walk over to him, radiating with so much love,how could she _not _be beautiful?

"Oh, hello James," she said, noticing me. "what can I do for you?"

In answer, I raised my arm, my sleeve rising all the way to my elbow. She tutted, drawing out her wand which was strapped to her ankle under the long, flowing dress.

"Well that won't do, will it?" she asked, almost to herself, and she swiftly began to mutter spells I had never heard, waving her wand in complicated patterns as the sleeves grew to the right size and the torso began to grow slimmer to fit me. Finally, she finished, tapping her wand against her chin and admiring her handiwork. "That's good enough, I think. Come take a look." She gestured to a full length mirror which I walked over to.

It looked better than 'good enough'. I looked like something out of a bloody fashion magazine. The kind of thing Sophia had stuck up on her walls when I had once crept in to her dorm, running up the stairs too quickly for them to turn into a slide and not allow me entrance. The robes suddenly looked how they were meant to look, with smooth lines down the collar and well angled lapels, falling straight down but not in such a way that it looked rigid. I rumpled my hair, commending Andromeda's work.

"You look so much like Sirius when you do that," she said.

"Your daughter seems to think so too," I replied, smiling.

"That she does," Ted chuckled, crossing the room to join us.

"Well, thanks," I said awkwardly, making to leave.

"No problem," Andromeda said. "And James?" I turned back expectantly, eyebrows raised. "It's nice, you know, you being Sirius' friend. Goodness knows he won't have many around here for long."

"He'll have you," I protested.

"Not here," she replied sadly. "not after tonight. I have a feeling the Black family tree is about to gain another scorch mark." I cocked an eyebrow, unsure of what that meant, but she ushered me out of the room as Tonks began to stir.

"She'll want to be fed." she explained, so I left.

I was hurried downstairs by Cissy and Regulus a few minutes later along with Sirius and Remus, saying that Walburga wanted to start with dinner already Whatever she had planning, it couldn't wait.

We all sat down at the magically enchanted dinner table, extended to fit all of us whilst somehow managing to fit in the dining room, clearly not built for gatherings of this many people. Along the walls of the dining room sat Slytherin and Black family crests, shields and swords worn and wielded by famous Slytherins and portraits of stuffy looking old men who all frowned when Sirius entered the room, muttering to each other. _So _this _is him._

I sat in between Sirius and Regulus on one side, whilst Remus and Cissy sat opposite us. Bellatrix sat next to Cissy whilst at the same time not sitting next to her, but sitting next to the adults, showing that she was too good to sit down at this end with the rest of us children. Andromeda had no problem sitting with us though, and sat gladly next to Sirius, giving him a little hug as Ted took his place next to her.

At the head of the table, Walburga stood, welcoming everyone. As she did so, food began to float into the room. Bottles of pumpkin juice picked themselves up off of the tables and began to fill people's goblets as roast potatoes, vegetables and a whole array of Christmas specialties ambled into the room from the kitchen and laid themselves out on the table. Thanks to Kreacher, none of the food looked too badly scorched and we began to tuck in, gratuitously filling our plates with food, stomachs rumbling.

"Everybody!" Walburga began, demanding quiet, obviously not done, "We have some special people to welcome tonight, my dearest niece Andromeda and her unfortunately muggle-born husband!" The couple looked nervously at one another, surprised at Walburga's obvious restraint not calling Ted a _mudblood. _Sirius applauded loudly and the portraits all scowled even more at him. "In fact," Walburga shrieked excitedly, obviously coming to the climax of her plan, "We even have a special treat for the happy couple!"

Right on cue, in floated something from the kitchen. The smell of turkey filled the nostrils of the gathered. Everyone craned their necks to see Walburga's creation, and there were outcries from the table of wild pleasure. The turkey landed directly in front of Ted, whose face turned stark white. I craned my neck to see and instinctively swore.

The turkey looked much like a turkey should for the most part, roasted golden. However, the meat seemed to extend to far past the body, swelling where the head should be, magically carved into the most spiteful shape. Ted Tonks. Worse still was the word smeared on top in red cranberry sauce, _MUDBLOOD._

Andromeda cried as she fled the table, fat tears surging down her cheeks. Ted stood as well, his eyes unnaturally dark.

"You are vile, evil people," he said, his voice dangerously low, before storming off to find his distraught wife. The portraits scoffed at him, pointing fingers and laughing malevolently. Walburga looked extremely proud of herself. At that point, Sirius clearly couldn't take it anymore and he stood, his eyes darker than I'd ever seen them, his face growing redder by the second. The table was so stunned by his abruptness they stopped laughing and all eyes turned to look at him.

"How dare you, mother?" Sirius asked. A sentence that should have sounded childish suddenly sounded menacing, tainted with absolute loathing. "How dare you try and ruin the only happy thing in this family?" He began to shout, "THE ONLY THING OF GOODNESS, THE ONLY THING PURE, THE ONLY THING NOT TAINTED BY YOUR INSANE PREJUDICES? THE ONLY _LOVE?_"

Walburga gave him a malicious smile. "I love _Regulus,_" she said, watching as Sirius' moment of defiance was quelled, his anger extinguished as pure hurt filled his face. Slowly, however, it was filled with anger once again.

"I hate you." he said. Quietly. In front of the entire room. Walburga flushed, beaten. No words could rival those that Sirius had uttered with absolute conviction. She had been bested by her prodigal son in front of her entire family, and it was a downright embarrassment. Walburga let out a long, powerful shriek, a string of incoherent words escaping her enraged lips as she ranted, drawing out her wand and storming out the room to the Black family tree that hung in the hall and, with a tremendous gesture and a terrifying scream of a hex, blew Andromeda clean off, leaving an ugly black scorch where her face should have been. Sirius, too, fled the room, and Remus and I ran after him

_**A/N: I hope that wasn't a bit of a let down, i just couldn't really think of anything evil enough, I suppose. A particularly long chapter for you though, so I hope you enjoyed it. Really enjoyed writing about little Tonks and the nice side of the Blacks, as I have said before. Haven't really got big plans for the next chapter though, this was sort of the Christmas climax, nonetheless if you enjoyed it please comment!**_


	26. Quicker and Easier than Falling Asleep

Sirius ran straight up to Andromeda's room without stopping, despite the ludicrous number of stairs. We arrived in stitches and flung the door open to be presented with chaos, clothes flying across the room and into awaiting suitcases, Andromeda and Ted throwing on coats, Ted strapping little Tonks to his chest as he began to cast anti-muggle charms on two brooms leaning against the window. In the middle of the room stood Andromeda, clutching Cissy to her chest.

"Be like them," she was pleading her sister, holding her as she shook with tears. "Marry a nice, pure-blood man. Have nice, pure-blood children. Forget all about your scorned sister and her broken family. Hate me. Hate me. Hate me." she kept begging her sister, who was shaking her head violently into her embrace, refusing like a child to let go. Finally, Andromeda prised Cissy off of her.

"B-But I'll see you again, right?" she sobbed. Andromeda shook her head sadly.

"I hope not, Cissy. You don't want me as a sister anyway. Bella'll be good to you. You'll have a nice life. You'll hate me like the rest of them." Cissy's lip quivered but she nodded and with a final hug she fled the room, tears streaming down her face. Remus followed her out as I watched Sirius go up to his cousin, who was wiping her eyes.

"Don't leave me here, Dromeda," he begged. "God knows I've had enough of this hell."

"I know you have, Sirius. I'll write to you, I promise. Maybe you can come spend next Christmas at mine."

"No '_be like them' _speech for me, then?" he asked, a weak smile cracking his devastated face.

"You're too far gone, Sirius." she replied, smiling. "Cissy still has a chance. Just-" she began, and then her face contorted as if she weren't sure she should say it. She shook her head, determined to save her sister. "Just don't infect her, alright?"

Sirius nodded, but his eyes were filled with tears as he crossed the room to hug her. He couldn't speak for fear that the tears would overflow.

"You're my favorite cousin, you know that?" she said, her pitch cracking slightly.

"You're mine," Sirius replied, his voice thick as he began to shake with tears. Andromeda hugged him with much more conviction than she had done Cissy, knowing she would miss Sirius more. I had already determined that I would make sure we fitted in a visit to the Tonks' next summer, but I knew it wasn't enough. Andromeda was the only thing that made 12 Grimmauld Place, fancy Christmas dinners and pure-blood supremacy bearable, she was the only thing supporting the ton weight of it all from crashing down over Sirius, crushing him completely. Now, she would be gone. How was he supposed to manage this without her?

Andromeda looked equally grieved, finally allowing herself to cry as she hugged the kid she had clearly practically raised. I swear, in all my life I had never seen such a hug. It was the way I hugged your mother, Harry. The way I hugged her before...

But Sirius would see Andromeda again, so with the little strength that fact gave him, he pulled away from her as Ted ushered her over to the ready broomsticks, hovering expectantly. Sirius gave a last, goodbye kiss to little Tonks, whose hair turned black and messy for him. She smiled sadly, seeming to sense in that way that babies do what was going on. Just before they left, Andromeda shot me a look. And for some reason, I could tell what her eyes were desperately trying to say. _Take care of him. _

I nodded. _I will. _And I would. I swore to myself I always would.

And then they shot off on their brooms and melted into the night. Sirius took a mournful glance around the room and sighed.

"C'mon," he said, wiping his eyes. "The house'll want to be rid of this floor. Especially with no Dromeda on the family tree." He paused at the door as I turned and clambered back up the many stairs, gazing at what was left of his cousin Andromeda Black. Then, he shook his head and followed me up, throwing himself onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling, to which a picture of a muggle motorbike had been permanently stuck with a charm Sirius and I had devised to stick Ravenclaws' essays to the desks in the libraries. However, when I passed it, I noticed something. It changed, like a hologram, if you looked at it from the right angle.

It changed to the Black family portrait, taken, seemingly, from when Sirius was about ten. Many of the faces were scorched out, like those of his mother and father- assumedly. The only faces that remained were a sullen faced Regulus, a brightly blonde Narcissa and Sirius and Andromeda, arms thrown around each other and smiling brightly in contrast with the rest of the dull, grey portrait.

Sirius didn't move from his position for what felt to me like eons. He simply stared up at the ceiling. I got very quickly bored and decided that Remus had been gone far too long. This called for investigation. I stood and began walking out of the door when a thought struck me, and a walked back to my case, pulling out the cloak, throwing it on. Sirius didn't even ask me where I was going, he just kept staring at the ceiling.

As I descended the stairs, I noticed that the floor where Andromeda's room had been was gone, and the next floor down was the one that held Regulus' room, a shiny golden plaque with his name boasting the fact.

Remus had run after Narcissa when she had left the room. I wondered if maybe he could still be comforting her. As I continued walking down, I suddenly felt ice run through my bones and held very still, pressed up against a portrait whose frame moved slightly. The stately woman looked terribly confused.

Bellatrix appeared walking up the stairs to her room next to Regulus'. Something about her expression scared me. While I had watched my friends beside themselves at the departure of a dear family member, Bellatrix smiled with contempt, looking more fulfilled than I had seen her all holiday. She had stayed down with the adults laughing at Walburga's cruel prank, her high-pitched, evil cackle carrying right up to the top of the house. She was glad her sister was gone, she was dead to her now, just as she had always wanted. It baffled me how any human being could be so _inhuman. _But Bellatrix was insane. We all knew it, everyone in Hogwarts, and we all feared greatly what she would become.

Bellatrix walked past me, pausing briefly. I clapped a hand over my mouth so she couldn't hear my laboured breaths, holding as still as I could. She shook her head and continued to walk, and the moment her door was closed I breathed a sigh of relief, scurrying down to see if Remus was in Narcissa's room.

Luckily, the door to Cissy's room was open when I got there, and I slipped in quietly, watching in the corner. Remus and Cissy sat on her bed as Cissy sniffed. Remus patted her back, rubbing her shoulder with his palm in smooth circles. She seemed to appreciate it, but she also had a hint of shyness in her, as if maybe she was uncomfortable- not with Remus exactly, but with having a boy in her room at all, especially a boy a year older than her.

Remus looked oddly apprehensive too, although I couldn't think why he would be. Maybe it was just the notion of being near a girl. I had never thought about it before, but it must have been different for Remus. He had grown up knowing that he was a werewolf, that the condition was by some measure genetic. If he married, had a child, that child could become the monster he so hated. He had never thought he would have a wife. And with no intentions of marriage, why would you ever need a girlfriend?

That was why it was nice to see Remus' friendship with Cissy, because he wouldn't really get to know girls any other way.

"It's Ok, Cissy," he cooed, "it's all Ok. You'll be fine, I promise you'll be fine." I never got to see Remus' soft side, although I had always been certain he had one. The way he caressed Cissy's arm, the way he pulled her into an embrace she clearly needed, made everything he said sound personal, like he had spent years crafting the words only for her. They were simple, but they seemed to bandage all the right wounds. I was suddenly very uncomfortable, intruding on such an intimate moment, and I crept back out of the room, making sure not to be heard, cursing my terrible foresight and not taking off my dress shoes, which clacked against the floor as I left Cissy's green carpeted room and stepped out onto the wooden landing.

Neither of them noticed, however. Cissy had looked up finally and locked her eyes on Remus', making me feel even more uncomfortable, looking at her staring at him, knowing Remus too well. He wouldn't be irresponsible enough to...

Nope, I was wrong. I took back everything I said because there, right before my eyes, Remus took Cissy's cheek very gently and pulled her to his lips, kissing her terribly nervously, his hands clearly shaking. The two sat on the bed, leaning in close to each other as they shared the kiss, quite unsure of what they were supposed to do, beginning to feel the motion come to them as they kissed properly. Then, I saw Remus pull away.

I turned and took off the blasted shoes, running back up to Sirius' bedroom as quickly and quietly as I could. My mind was whirling. It was just surreal, seeing my best friend kiss my other best friend's younger pure-blood supremacist cousin. There was something about me that wanted to scream, to say that that was _definitely _not right. Something that wanted to punch Remus for being so irresponsible, for messing with the feelings of a first year who had no idea what he could be, didn't know about his furry little problem.

_Messing around with a first year? A little hypocritical, James. _But no, that was different. _I _wasn't a werewolf.

NO.

No, I couldn't think like that. My immediate fretting was quelled as I really _heard _myself. I was just like all the parents who would complain if they heard that their children were in school with a werewolf. I was just as bad as the Blacks. Remus could kiss whoever he liked, I couldn't have any prejudices. I swore silently, cursing the thought that had flashed through my head, the feeling I was trying so hard to suppress. Because I _didn't _care if my best friend was a werewolf. He was my best friend first, right?

And that was when the quiet other half, the part of me that didn't want to shout, warned me against saying anything. It warned me what Sirius might think. It warned me that the prejudice we suppressed, that we pretended never existed, would suddenly explode even more violently and much more destructively. I wouldn't tell anyone. I would try my best to forget.

Resolved, I took a deep breath, pulled off the cloak and stepped back into the room, my gaze falling on Sirius' bed, which was empty. I looked up suddenly around the room and spotted him, legs hanging out of the window, eyes screwed up tight as he drew in a deep breath.

"SIRIUS!" I yelled, running over to the window sill. What I was faced with, however, was not what I expected. It was much more terrifying. Instead of a wild-eyed, deranged, frantic wreck that movies and books prepared me for, I saw something like immense calm in Sirius' eyes as he teetered on the edge of life, not because the fall necessarily would kill him, but he was bound by an Unbreakable curse to stay in the house until Christmas ended. Sirius knew that, I saw, as I stared into his serene eyes.

"Yes, James?" He asked, as if I were going to ask him what was for lunch. I faltered for a moment, unsure of what I had planned to say next.

"W-what are you doing?" I asked dumbly. _He's clearly trying to kill himself, _my mind reminded me, my heart thudding as I seriously considered grabbing his still confined torso and wrenching it back into the room. No, no sudden movement. That only forces hasty decisions.

"Just... thinking..." Sirius replied dreamily.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked timidly, desperately trying to think of a way to get him down.

"What it would feel like." He answered. My heart stopped. "My uncle," he said, "he always told me it was quicker and easier than falling asleep. I was afraid of it then. I don't know if I am any more." I felt a chill begin to crawl up my neck. The way he said it, like he had thought about it. Not just since Andromeda left, but for a while before. Andromeda just held it at bay. Now, the idea was becoming more appealing.

"I could, you know," Sirius said matter-of-fact-ly, interrupting me from my thoughts. "I could just jump. The curse would kill me before pain would. And nobody would care. My mother would probably throw a party. Nobody at Hogwarts likes me much either."

"Sirius..." I protested, trying to meet his eye, though it was useless. Sirius just gazed at the emptiness beneath his feet, swinging his legs, as if trying to feel for ground. "Sirius!" I said again. He looked up, and I saw for the first time how aged the twelve year old's face was. "Sirius," I said again, holding his gaze, "_I _would care. _I _would miss you. I need you with me, Ok? That's why I need you to come up off this ledge, go to bed and forget about this. Be a teenager again. Can you do that for me?"

Sirius looked back wistfully at the inviting night sky, and then nodded, drawing his legs back through the window and jumping down. I exhaled, only just realising I had been holding my breath.

"I suppose if I were to die because of any of my cousins, it should be Bella," he joked, throwing a friendly punch at my arm. I smiled weakly, not quite in the mood for friendly banter, still trying to quiet my mind. But Sirius shook his head, almost instantly forgetting his suicide attempt and crawling into bed.

"What's going on?" asked Remus as he entered the room, his face flushed and his lips swollen. Sirius didn't give me a look or anything, but still I didn't tell him, worried he'd react like any normal person would have, badly. The image of him kissing Cissy was also still in my mind.

"Nothing," I said through gritted teeth, hoping that it was nothing. Hoping it wouldn't fester. But it would, wouldn't it?

_**A/N: Maybe a bit darker than my normal stuff, but Sirius is a dark character people and that will be seen more in the future, although I'll want to be getting back to the happy stuff now. Otherwise, thanks for reading, the normal, lighthearted stuff will resume shortly. Please Read and Review**_


	27. Flying Through A Diamond Peppered Night

_**A/N: We're back to the fun stuff ma peeps, sorry 'bout the delay. **_

Christmas morning was... awkward. Sirius, Remus and I awoke to no presents at the foot of our beds except our own. It seemed that Sirius' family had neglected to give him something even as malicious as the Slytherin scarf like last year (which I had kindly set on fire for him), but had just neglected him altogether, their spite being shown in the multitude of presents left at the foot of Regulus and Cissy's beds. Moreover, our parents had probably just sent our presents to Hogwarts, as Sirius told us it'd be easier for the owls to find, and Peter's family owl Lloyd was definitely too dumb to find us.

What's more, I could barely look at Sirius, due to his temporary insanity the night before, and he was definitely avoiding my eye too. I think Remus could feel the tensity in the air, but chose not to say anything, feeling to guilty about kissing Cissy the night before. What a group we made.

So we exchanged our presents quite placidly, with none of the usual excitement that goes with Christmas. For the most part our stomachs were growling, ravenous due to our lack of Ted-Tonks-Turkey the night before. I was still trying to shake the image from my mind.

Sirius handed to me, without looking at me, of course, a small cauldron.

"'Sploding Cauldron," he explained. "'Be fun to try out on Slughorn."

"Yeah," I agreed halfheartedly, handing him my gift which was, rather embarrassingly, also an exploding cauldron.

"Great minds and all that," I joked.

"Fools never differ," Remus shot back and we all chuckled. I pulled out my present for Remus.

"Uh, I know you're not into muggle stuff, but I thought this was appropriate..." I said, pulling out the _Teen Wolf _comic I had found during one of the weekends my parents had 'wanted me home', mainly to scold me on the amount of exasperated letters sent back from Professor McGonagall about my behaviour.

"It's perfect!" I had cried to Sirius and Peter when I got back. "It's about a teenage werewolf _and _it's a book!" Peter had shrieked in agreement, laughing hysterically, and Sirius had slapped me on the back with a wide smile. But now, in the subdued atmosphere of Sirius' bedroom, it didn't feel exciting at all.

Nonetheless, Remus gave me a weak smile. "It's great..." he said, flipping through the colourful pages. "I love it." In truth, Remus would treasure that comic for a long time, and I knew he kept it under his pillow and read it when the thought of his wolf-ness grew to much, but right now I worried if he thought it was insulting.

To spare me from my worries, Sirius handed Remus a present as well, a large book on Arithmancy judging from the cover, although inside it seemed to be a 'How-To' book on picking up girls.

"Thought you might need it," Sirius said with a cheeky smile, and Remus shot him a look that meant he appreciated the joke, but was still going to murder him for it. I also saw in his flushed cheeks- which Sirius probably missed- a hint of guilt, because of course he didn't need it. Goodness was Cissy messing up his Christmas.

And, of course, Remus gave us both our gifts, which was actually a gift for all the three of us. Somehow, during the events of the night, he had managed to whip up three mini-Christmas feasts, complete with fist-sized turkeys, and without us even noticing- too wrapped up in what had happened last night- had dressed the room in bright red and gold tinsel.

"We all deserve a proper Christmas," he said with a smile, and as everything began to settle back into normality and it seemed like we could go back to laughing and joking like nothing had happened, Regulus burst in the room, dragging by the wrist a rather reluctant-looking Cissy, who blushed a violent red when she saw Remus, who had apparently left her room less than tactfully the night before.

"Sirius, check this out!" Regulus said, proudly holding up his Christmas present, a glaring spectacle of his parent's love in comparison to Sirius' lack thereof. In his hand sat a beautifully polished, well angled Cleansweep, the newest model by my estimation. The Blacks had spared no expense on their favorite son.

"First years aren't allowed brooms," Sirius said boredly, making a gesture at his brother which clearly meant _get in or get out. _

"I- uh- see that you got Remus' present!" Cissy said, stepping into the room, trying to act nonchalant and instead coming off extremely over-excited. "Kreacher helped him! Isn't that nice?" Sirius muttered a long and graphic train of swear words which meant that he definitely did _not _think it was nice, but cut it off by popping a bite-sized mince pie into his mouth anyway.

"Want to go outside an play Quidditch?" Regulus asked, "I'll lend you guys my old brooms. I guess with Gryffindor's star player on my old Comet 140, we might even be evenly matched!"

"Maybe two against one," I said, winking arrogantly, but Sirius and Regulus looked at each other, an identical glint of mischief in their eyes.

"How much are you willing to bet?" asked Sirius slyly.

The rest of one of the most horrid Christmases I had ever had were spent playing a two-against-one Quidditch match in the back garden of 12 Grimmauld Place where, as per Regulus' apparent request some years ago, two Quidditch posts had been erected at either end. Two against one was rather simple, a Keeper and Chaser on one side, and a combination of the two on the other, and the game ended at 150 points. The only ball used was the Quaffle, which in this case was a beaten up football confiscated from 11 Grimmauld Place. Apparently, there had been many disputes between 11 and 13 about where the ball had disappeared off to, disputes which were watched from windows by the sniggering Cissy, Regulus and Sirius.

I don't really know why I decided to bet on the Quidditch game, it seemed inevitable that it would be played anyway. Neither Remus nor Cissy enjoyed the sport, so they sat next to each other in the grass, the picture of intelligence, both with their noses pressed into books, trying as hard as possible not to notice each other.

Sirius and Regulus were a good match- combined, that is. Clearly, years of growing up together or possibly basic genetics gave the two some sort of telepathy, and they played each move instinctively, knowing that the other would be there to reap the spoils of one's apparent blunders. But the two played their moves obviously in their attempt to stay subtle. Sirius would fake a mistaken jerk to the right- cursing the old broom quite loudly in an attempt to annoy his parents- and when I went for the clear opening Regulus would suddenly appear, snatching the ball I more often than not dropped in surprise, zooming over in his new broom and scoring a goal.

But they were only forty points ahead of me before I realised what they were doing. I also realised that while money dictated that Regulus had the upper hand when it came to his broom, reality said otherwise. Regulus, upon receiving a broom which was reported to be better and certainly newer, assumed that his increased speed would offer him the upper hand. However, in his rush to show this off, he had not had time to get used to the broom. I could feel his Comet 140 underneath me, it needed big swings to make it turn, heavy handed movements I was used to from flying lessons with the old Hogwarts brooms, but the new Cleansweep was nimble, light, it needed no more than soft touches. Each of Regulus' moves swung wide on the broom he wasn't used to. I decided to give him something to swing for.

I began exaggerating every turn, the Quaffle in my hands. Regulus, definitely the biggest threat on his faster broom and with better reflexes than Sirius, tried to follow, using the same excessive movements he was used to. He lurched uncomfortably to one side, overcompensating and flying over to the next. I easily scored a goal, then two, then three, restarting and going with the same strategy too swiftly for him to realise what was happening, unable to get used to his broom in time for me to score 150 points and land victorious, gladly and less than graciously accepting the two shiny golden galleons.

"Thank you, gentlemen, and a very merry Christmas!" I beamed at the two scowling boys.

"Arsehole." Regulus muttered.

"We know." Remus sighed, standing and inspecting his trousers for grass stains. He pulled his cardigan- God knows I teased him for his fondness of cardigans- tighter around him against the spiteful British winter and ushered us all inside. Regulus called for Kreacher to bring in butterbeer, and from then we just waited for midnight, when we could finally escape the ghosts of this horrible Christmas on Regulus' old brooms (which he had already promised us) back to Hogwarts. Back home.

We sat subdued in Sirius' room in a circle. Remus and Cissy kept looking at each other, locking eyes and immediately looking down. Sirius had finally begun to notice.

"If you two are going to act like lovesick puppies, you might as well do it overtly. You're two of the worst liars I've ever met."

Remus gave him a faux-shocked look, eyes much wider than those of people who were _actually _shocked, mouth in an impossibly shaped 'O'. Cissy mirrored it, apparently not realising how unconvincing the pair of them were. Regulus let out a bark of laughter.

"You two could lie through your teeth with a full vial of Veritaserum in you, I'm sure." I agreed, joining in his laughter, just relieved that Sirius was double the man I was and hadn't jumped to the same conclusions. Remus stuck pathetically to his shock at the accusation for about two more seconds before sighing and shaking his head. He gave Sirius a look, a look that meant _don't go there. _Cissy, too, had given up her façade, but she looked different, embarrassed.

As we three scanned their faces, what I had previously guessed became obvious to the others. Remus had kissed her, but pulled away. Shot her down. Embarrassed her. The excited atmosphere tensed, Cissy and Remus avoiding all eyes by this point.

Thankfully, however, at the same moment as Regulus let out a low whistle, the clock in the hallway struck twelve times and Sirius let out a relieved sigh, snatching up his trunk.

"I'm free!" he declared, grabbing my readily packed trunk as well. "Let's get out of here!"

"Happily," said Remus under his breath, clambering on the broom behind me and holding on to his trunk. I knew it would probably unbalance me, but I was a good flyer. Sirius bound his and my trunk to the bottom of his broom and I just hoped it would be enough weight for it to take. But Sirius wasn't really double checking, he just wanted out.

He propped up his window as high as it could go, somewhat reminiscent of last night. But we had little time to think about last night. Sirius gingerly hovered outside of his window, and then further out of the premises of 12 Grimmauld Place. He punched the air with his fist at his survival and then beckoned for us to follow.

"Careful," Cissy called, "You can't use anti-muggle charms outside of Hogwarts, fly above the clouds!"

Her voice was lost to the whooshing of the wind and the feeling of freedom brought with flying through a diamond peppered night.

_**A/N: Sorry about my madness in the last chapter, that has been erased of the records and let's move on, shall we? Liked writing this chapter but it was quite obviously a filler wasn't it? But we have things to move on to. No lies, this year is quite boring so it'll be quite fast sailing from here until third year, brace yourselves! And of course, thanks for reading and if you enjoyed- or didn't and want to swear at me- please review**_


	28. You've Missed the Festivities!

I'm not sure our bedraggled arrival at Hogwarts was even unexpected. Dumbledore was standing beside the Whomping Willow in the front yard as we crash-landed into the crisp snow, Sirius throwing the two trunks on the ground with triumph and cursing them for their weight before noticing the presence of the silver-bearded man and immediately falling uncharacteristically silent. Of course, Dumbledore could have just seen us coming and come out, but he didn't did he? Because he was he greatest wizard of the 20th century.

We all looked down at the ground as he inspected us, shifting from foot to foot, sneaking glances up to try and see if he were going to give us detention or expel us. But he did neither, instead, he threw out his arms and began to clap, a laugh like a thousand church bells tearing from his lips and reverberating around the walls of the castle. It seemed to brighten the dark, cold night.

"James, Sirius, Remus!" he replied, neglecting to call us 'Mr..." in his gaiety. "You've missed the festivities! Oh never mind, no matter. Come in, now, you must be freezing!" We all drew out our wands thankfully, having missed their weight in our hands as we levitated our soaked bags into the castle as Dumbledore muttered a drying charm.

Hogwarts had never seemed so glorious to me. Against the black, overcast night it stood out like a dazzling jewel, against the cold of the winter's snow it was a fortress of benevolent warmth, against the Christmas passed of cruel, hard faces it was a kindly smile and a warm hand, leading you in to its hospitable depths. Hogwarts was home.

"I couldn't have imagined that you would be staying at the Black's the entire time, although I was somewhat expecting your arrival on Christmas Eve," Dumbledore looked at me meaningfully, as if he had missed our conversations from last year. I shook my head apologetically.

"That was my fault, Professor," Sirius piped up, still blushing slightly, either from the sudden warmth or for the crude language Dumbledore had witnessed him using, "My dad sort of Unbreakable Vow-ed me into staying for Christmas."

Dumbledore nodded gravely, "I understand, Sirius, we just missed you, that's all." Then, he raised his eyebrows, as if he'd just remembered something. "Oh, Sirius! Your cousin Andromeda showed up on Christmas Eve! Don't worry, I found her a nice house and she, Ted and Nymphadora have all settled in nicely. It's in a muggle neighbourhood where your family will never go looking, they're safe. She told me to tell you that you could visit her whenever the Black house became too much for you." Sirius nodded gratefully.

"Alright!" Dumbledore suddenly exclaimed again, quite loudly, "enough with the solemnity! Go upstairs to your dorms, all of you, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised! Your trunks are already up there," he added with a wink. We looked around astonished to find that indeed, our trunks were no longer beside us, although they must have been a few seconds ago. Hurriedly, we thanked Dumbledore and rushed upstairs, bursting open the door of our dorm room to find not only our trunks by the foot of our beds, but also a large stack of presents like a trove of vibrant jewels.

But that was not the surprise Dumbledore was talking about. Standing in the middle of the room, with the beater's bat he kept beside his bed in case of emergencies clutched in his trembling, clammy hands, was an extra podgy post-christmas feast Peter.

"Peter!" we exclaimed in unison as we saw him, but he didn't quite seem to register our faces, the beater's bat raised above his head. As if he could strike us.

"J-James..." he stammered, recognizing me and dropping the beater's bat as we all charged forward in an attack of brotherly hugging, wrestling him to the ground as he banged his open palm against the floor, demanding air we refused to give him until his sweaty face had gone a deep purple.

"Peter, you beautiful bastard, I never thought I would be so happy to see you!" Sirius exclaimed with a wide smile, clutching the boy's hand and- with visible effort- puling him back to his feet.

"What are you doing here?" Remus asked.

"My family vacation was cut short. I thought you were with Sirius' family..." his index finger was trained on Sirius with a look of absolute confusion.

"Long story," I said, shaking it off, "and not one we have time for. Look, presents!"

"Oh yeah," Peter said sheepishly. "Lloyd couldn't find the address."

"It's fine," Remus said as we rushed to sit down by the feet of our beds and quickly the satisfying sound of wrapping paper being torn open filled the air, as did small bits of shiny wrapping paper and long ribbons, which Remus charmed into animation, suspended in the air around us, ribbons whirling in a shimmering ballet as the paper caught the light and glinted. It was beautiful and euphoric, finally Christmas as we shared out chocolate frogs and every flavoured beans from various friends. Kaise had even been courteous enough to give us all specially selected boxes of beans. Each was like the butterscotch one I had eaten in front of the Quidditch team, except in reverse. Whilst mine had reeked of rotten eggs, hers were inviting with illustrious smells that filled our nostrils tantalizingly, but their taste was repulsive.

I moved to my final present from my parents and halted. In my hands, I held a long parcel, quite light for its size. I knew what this was. This was a moment to be savoured.

Slowly, I began to tear the wrapping in even strips, my heart pumping in excitement as glints of polished wood and trimmed twigs revealed themselves to me. Sirius had stopped eating his chocolate frog and was gazing at me as the detatched legs kicked for freedom. Peter, noticing Sirius, turned to see what he was staring at and gasped.

I read the note, not daring to look at my unwrapped gift until I saw it, checking it weren't tied to conditions as parents loved to do. _You can have it as long as you do your homework _type situations I usually avoided.

_Dear Jamie,_

_Merry Christmas! We miss you, of course, but we're doing some very important work, as you know. I hope you have fun with Sirius, we do like that little friend of yours._

_Love from Tasmania,_

_Mum and Dad._

_P.S. This is Dad, I picked your present. You'd better beat Slytherin this year, our favorite Chaser._

I turned back to look at my present and knew immediately that I would have done all my homework and then some every day this year even on weekends to keep it. But the only string attached here was a Slytherin defeat, something I was all too happy to ensure.

Hovering slightly above the ground gleamed a Nimbus One-Thousand. The best racing broom to date.

Even Remus couldn't tear his eyes off such an accomplishment from the union of muggle physics and wizarding genius with a multitude of cushioning charms and preservation spells that made its dark, shiny wood almost soft to the touch, but hard enough to know it meant business. It's twigs looked as if they had all been taken from the same tree and plucked specifically from this broom only. Slowly, I brushed it with my hand. It seemed to recognise my touch, and suddenly on the handle appeared looping gold writing.

_JS, Chaser. _An easy smile came to my face. The broom was sworn to me, quite like a wand.

"Up to a hundred miles an hour..." Peter was unconsciously muttering statistics, gawking at the broom, "can turn a full 360 degrees in mid-air..."

"The best broom in the world. And it's mine."

"Regulus'll have a fit when he sees you beat Slytherin on that thing!" Sirius cried, the thought suddenly occurring to him and sending him into fits of laughter, "Can't even complain about unfair advantages, you beat him on that ratty old broom of his!"

"I know," I grinned, still running my hands over every inch of the wondrous wood, familiarizing myself with the entire broom, itching to know what it felt like to ride.

I flicked my wand with a tidying-up charm and the room cleared of wrapping paper and ribbons, snatching up my pyjamas and heading towards the bathroom.

"Going to bed so soon?" Sirius asked, disappointed.

"The sooner I sleep, the sooner morning comes," I said, yawning. "And I did just fly for miles with Remus and a trunk through the effing freezing night at one o'clock in the morning. I think I'll need a little lie down."

It took me ages to fall asleep, however. In my head I was whirling through the air on my new Nimbus One Thousand, whipping clouds into all kinds of shapes, diving and twirling, rocketing back up. My mind was so abuzz I couldn't even dream of dreaming, despite the day I had. It was one of those infuriating feelings when you're so tired you could pass out but you feel so _alive._

It was midday when I awoke. That was more, however, than I could say for the others, who I gathered had stayed up much later than me last night regardless of their recent travels. I looked around the room. Sirius was lying spread-eagled on the bed in his god-awful yellow boxers, Remus was curled in a ball in his old-man striped pyjamas and Peter was wearing his bright-orange Chudley Cannons pyjamas and snoring terribly loudly. I always wondered why he would support such a loser team. Go figure.

I quickly got dressed into a pair of jeans and a warm-but-unrestricting jumper and paced over to my broom, _my _broom. It still excited me to think it. I placed a confident and admiring hand over it, and didn't even have to say 'up' before it registered my presence and shot into my hands. I could almost feel it almost pulsing as we headed out of the castle and towards the Quidditch grounds, just as excited as I was.

I didn't even reach the grounds before I decided to swing the broom between my legs and kick off the crunching new snow, feeling my feet leave the ground as I shot into the air, accelerating faster than I had ever experienced before. The broom was like nothing I had ever ridden, and I understood Regulus' problems with his tenfold. It seemed to know before I did which direction I wanted to turn in, and just a twitching of my finger would cause it to veer off at an unimaginable angle. I could perform hairpin turns with the movement of a little over one centimeter, full 360 turns at two. I threw my head back and laughed to the wind as air rushed around me, unable to keep up as I tumbled through the cold, defying the ice that was trying to steal into my heart and dampen the moment, feeling absolutely glorious.

Only one thing could have made this moment better, and she was sitting in the stands of the Quidditch pitch, reading a book.

"Evans!" I yelled from my place soaring high above her. She didn't hear me, too stuck in to the pages I could barely see. The only way I could be sure it was her was from the hair, it's deep red that I had dreamt of clutching as I kissed her perfect lips so many times. I landed and strode over to her, the broom feeling suddenly inadequate as I gazed at her perfection before changing to a cool expression when she noticed me standing above her. I sat.

"Oh," she said, her voice as cold as the snow we sat amongst, "It's you."

"Nice to see you too, Evans," I greeted her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked indifferently, turning back to her book.

"I was coming to see if you were sitting in the freezing cold by yourself reading a book." I answered. She closed the book again and turned to me, an eyebrow raised. "I was trying out my new broom." I explained.

"Oh, that's nice. Is it good?" _Good? It's bloody fantastic. Not as fantastic as your eyes but somewhere close._

"It's fine. Why are you out here?"

"I-" she paused, frowning, trying to find the right words. I knew how she felt, I had spent the past two years trying to find the right words to sum up how she made me feel, "I like the quiet. I like the snow, how it's untouched." She wasn't looking at me, she was giving the pristine pitch a faraway, admiring look. I adopted the same look, gazing at her.

"You're not being as much of a git as usual," she said after a moment of silence.

"I'm not a git," I said adamantly. She turned to me, her eyebrow raised again. "I'm not!" I protested.

"You are most of the time." she said.

"You dated Gabriel Kramer. He was more of a git."

"True..." she agreed, smiling at me at the mention of possibly the only thing we agreed on.

"I'm not all that bad," I said, standing. "Someday, I'll show you."

"Mmm hmm," she said, opening her book again, no longer listening.

"Evans?" I asked, pulling her attention again, "Will you go out with me?" I flashed her a cheeky smile."

"Git." she said and I shrugged, swinging my legs around the broom and taking off once again


	29. Consent

The rest of the Christmas holidays were spent with plans for numerous pranks, an animagus session whilst Remus went wolf, (in which Peter, Sirius and I gave out poor mice turtle legs non-verbally) and mostly, lots of failed courting with Lily. It was after a particularly loud quarrel with her at lunch that my friends began to take notice.

"James?" Remus asked tentatively, sitting down, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah?" I asked, looking up from the pumpkin juice I was swirling intently, trying not to think about what had just happened, as that usually brought on an uncomfortable embarrassment.

"Are you... Ok?"

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine, that's just typical Evans. She doesn't really know how to take a joke," I snorted, bringing the goblet to my lips and swallowing the pumpkin juice in one gulp. I licked the remains off of my lips, realising that I didn't like pumpkin juice all that much. Why did so many wizards drink it?

"Looks to me like James has a crush," Sirius teased.

"I do not have a crush!" I shot back too quickly, suspiciously. Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Peter," I began, too bored with this argument to be bothered to fight this battle, "will you please tell Sirius I do not have a crush?"

"He doesn't!" Peter squeaked obediently, "of course he doesn't! I've see people with a crush! They don't look like James at all..."

"Shut up Peter," Sirius sighed, rolling his eyes. "Must you always have him fight for you?"

"It's easier," I said, rumpling Peter's hair before rumpling my own, noticing a few first years looking over an giggling. I recognized them as Kaise's friends and hoped they weren't jumping to the same conclusion my friends were. I liked Kaise. She was quick, witty and had a brilliant criminal mind, the perfect partner in crime. A great... friend.

We hadn't kissed since the great romantic gesture, just sort of hung out. I wondered if she even wanted a boyfriend sometimes. She didn't seem to care like Sophia did. She didn't want sweet nothings and kisses by the fireside. I couldn't tell what she wanted. She was a mystery. I hadn't even received a single letter from her since the holidays started, except for the note that came with her present. It made me somewhat angry. I was supposed to be the indifferent one in the relationship, she was supposed to be the one who cared to much. It was as if _I _liked her more, giving her the authority to end romance whenever she pleased. It was infuriating because I didn't like to think that any girl held that power over me. It was also infuriating because I did like her.

The more I thought about it, I did want to kiss her. _Dammit. _She wasn't just a friend to me. She was the only other person than Lily Evans I would ever want to look down and see in the stands, the it would be a cold day in hell before I caught Kaise with a book.

James did have a crush. It wasn't on Lily, I was completely in love with Lily, but I had a crush on Kaise. _Dammit. What's the point of a rebound if you like her more than the original girl? _But new knowledge in mind I could do no more. It was out of my hands, the gods had spoken. Goodness I was pathetic.

So when the holidays ended and Kaise bounded up to my room to greet me- I always found it infuriating that girls were allowed into the boy's dorms but not vice versa- I grabbed her at the back of her neck and kissed her like I had seen myself kiss Lily in the mirror. She didn't react well, and with two hands on my chest she pushed away violently.

"James, what the hell?" she yelled, a little unused to my forwardness, or perhaps simply being kissed.

"I-I missed you..." I stammered. That wasn't entirely true. I kissed her because I wanted control, to have her know that _I _was the one who kisses spontaneously and controls when and where, and just because I liked her more than she liked me...

_God, I'm going crazy._

"I-I missed you too... but I don't think we've done enough to miss... _that_," she said gesturing to the two of us. All I could think of was that she missed me too, maybe she did like me equally...

_Absolutely nuts. _

"I think we should be doing _that _some more. U-unless you don't want to..." There's me with my fat mouth again, all authoritative until I'm not, and I go back to melting into her fingers...

_C'mon healers, lock me up in St Mungo's! _

"I really like you, James,"

_Wait... you what?"_

"I-I just don't know how to initiate... _that..._ I've never had a boyfriend before."

_False alarm, turn off the sirens, everyone back to your posts, the balance is restored._

"That's alright, baby," I said, and for a second we both cringed at the pet name, and noticing the mutual cringe began to laugh easily. I stilled the laughter with an intense look into Kaise's eyes, searching for- there! Consent, willingness even, in the bat of one of her perfectly-lashed eyelids.

Then, Kaise found that girl I had kissed that one time in an abandoned classroom on the second floor. She reminded me that she wasn't mine to like, pulling my head down to meet hers as we kissed. It felt as good as the last one had, equal. We both gave, we both took and most importantly, we both enjoyed. And then, I felt something, like a stirring in my chest, like my heart was just realising what was going on.

I broke away from Kaise before the feeling could grow and she frowned at me, disappointed and... was she uncomfortable too? Because yes! She felt it, I know she did, and from my triumphant expression she knows I did too. There was a moment of awkwardness as we wondered who would say it first.

"I think I like you," Kaise said, after a while, letting her walls drop and letting me see the insecure first-year behind the prankster.

"I-I like you too," I assured her, and with a deep breath I did just as she had, letting her see the trembling twelve year old who was still just learning how to kiss a girl, still worrying he was doing it wrong.

My heart immediately picked up again at a gallop, thudding against my chest as Kaise stared at _me. _When I looked back, what I saw was much more attractive than the pretty girl with gold flecks in her eyes. This girl was nervous and complexed, a bit of a tomboy at times and not always appreciated for it. But maybe she was a little of a romantic too, when she allowed herself to be. Maybe her heart was beating double time for me.

Another kiss, no forced feeling, no convention. A soft, real kiss between two people who had seen each other, who had been missing each other for a long time. From my heart I scraped out a niche from all the Lily and placed Kaise inside gently, where she could rest for a while.

"I think that's enough of the feelings for today," Kaise said, pulling away again with an intake of breath through her teeth. I smiled, chuckling a little and rumpled my hair, looking around my dorm room. Kaise noticed the bag of her beans lying discarded on the floor by my bedside table. I imagine they must have rolled off.

"I see you got my present," she noted, her usual, cheeky grin gracing her face.

"Yeah, Peter loved them. He was our lab rat," one day I would look back on the irony of calling Peter a lab rat so many times. Kaise guffawed, taking one and blowing on it before popping it in her mouth, relishing the taste. I stared at her in shock. She noticed and raised an eyebrow.

"You don't know? That's how you remove the charm on these bad beans, all you have to do is blow on them," and suddenly I recognised why Kaise was so astonished. It was my own charm she had put on the beans, one we had used together to ruin any raids but ours. She looked up at me innocently, just a girl trying to explain to a boy how to lift a spell.

"Well played," I said, shaking my head at my own stupidity.

"Nice spell," she said with a smile, taking another bean and handing it to me. I blew and ate it, enjoying the tang of raspberry.

"Thanks," I said.

"Want to tell me what spells you're doing in the Come and Go room?" she asked nonchalantly, monitoring my reaction. I didn't flinch, just cocked my head to the side.

"Have you found it?" I asked incredulously.

"Don't toy with me, James."

"About what?"

"I know you found it."

"And what would make you think that?" I asked, hoping that the cracks in the lies I were beginning to formulate remained unseen until I could fill them in with trickery, or maybe a memory charm, although we weren't supposed to do those on each other.

"You haven't spoken about it. I expected that if you wanted to find it, you would have at least asked for my assistance."

"Peter had borrowed the same textbook last year," I informed her, at least a little piece of the truth wouldn't come back to bite me. Thankfully, I was saved from having to say any more, for as Kaise opened her mouth to retort with whatever evidence she had, the door to my dorm room burst open and Felix stood red-faced and looking very angry in the doorway.

"That bloody Gilderoy Flockfart or whatever his name is just came up to me and insulted my Quidditch team, _my Quidditch team! _Get into something comfortable, Potter, we're going to practice _right now. _Bad Quidditch team my... Oh, and get rid of your female friend too, no distractions!" James and Kaise stood stunned, staring at Felix as he gave me a look that said, _well come on, get a move on! _and when finally we realised that he wasn't joking, he was already off trying to find Bella and Michael who had just arrived as well.

"Uh... Bye Kaise," I said, not so delicately kicking her out of my room while I threw on my Quidditch robes and ran the the pitch.

_Bloody hell, and I thought I was going mental for liking a girl._

_**A/N: Hello, please don't shout at me, I know this was a pretty bad chapter but I'm working on a Quidditch match and I didn't want to jump right into it. I thought I'd ease you in with a bit of romance first, unfortunately man-whore James is actually not going to make his appearance for quite a while so if that's what you're looking for, don't come here. While we're on the matter, I would like you all to know that I am strictly a K-T writer, and while you will still be getting sexual references (because how **_**else **_**would Harry be born?) you will not be getting explicit scenes. My parents are dying to read this people. Plus I don't... know how... to write one... not that I want to. Clear? Ok, rambling, enjoy read and review**_


	30. My Nimbus 1000 and Me

Once I had shoved Kaise out of my room I threw on a tracksuit as quickly as I could and made my way over to the Gryffindor changing room to collect my broom as the others had. I didn't hesitate when Felix entered the room, I knew all too well that insults about his Quidditch team just brought a lot of misplaced anger, and nobody wanted to be on the receiving end.

As I approached the changing room however, I realised that nobody was yet up in the air, they were all crowded around the door peering inside. Felix had apparently just noticed too and was stalking over to them, telling them to get inside already.

"Is that what I think it is?" asked Elise, stunned as I approached. She was closest to the door, but seemed mesmerized to the point where she could no longer move.

"It can't be, that broom must be worth everything I have in Gringotts!" Michael exclaimed.

"Whose is it?" asked Bella.

"Calm down people," I said nonchalantly strolling past them with some difficulty and picking up my Nimbus 1000, "Just read the hilt." I smiled at them serenely, as if I didn't know what I was holding in my hands, but I must have had a glint of arrogance in my eye as I stroked the words _JP, Chaser. _

Suddenly, the crowd from the outside of the changing room surged in as everyone came to marvel at my broom. The boys had the same reaction Peter had, reeling off statistics and things they had read about the broom whilst the girls complimented its sleek, aerodynamic design and polish. When Felix fought his was through to see what the fuss was about, the room suddenly stilled.

"James," he said quietly, his gaze never moving from the broom, "tell me that thing is yours," I grinned widely at the team's disbelief.

"It is."

"Very well," Felix nodded, still staring, "then I think Hufflepuff'll never know what hit 'em." The changing room erupted with cheers as I was hugged, my hair crumpled by ever member of the team who could reach. I smiled brightly as Felix started chanting something obscene about 'Schmilderoy Flockfart' and pulling out his playbook, at which point the chorus applause turned into one of groans and everyone sat as Felix pulled out a large chalk-board and began to draw out complicated plays. He droned on for the next hour while the rest of the team paid little heed, taking it in turns to examine the Nimbus 1000. Felix could get very much like Professor Binns when he got started on Quidditch, very boring, rarely listened to and never noticing the diversion of the students' attention.

Finally, he announced that he thought we were all ready to practice in the air to the delight of the rest of the team, who wanted to see the Nimbus fly.

It didn't disappoint. As one the broom and I corkscrewed and loop-de-looped through the air, turning impossible angles and dancing intricate patterns around them, speeding and twirling through all three off the goalposts.

"Ten points, twenty points, thirty points for Gryffindor!" yelled the voice of Davey Gudgeon over the speakers as the crowd roared. It was a few weeks later, and the tireless practices at ridiculous hours of the morning and finishing past curfew were all paying off. The Gryffindors had the same reaction the team did as I lapped the stadium, screaming praises for my broom. The Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and especially Slytherins had all turned white. Half the Ravenclaws had even changed their yellow clothing and Hufflepuff signs, charming them scarlet. This included a very sheepish looking Gilderoy Lockhart.

Even the Hufflepuff players looked like they were also willing to switch teams if it meant being on the same team as me and my Nimbus 1000. The poor keeper, so distracted by the polished perfection of the wood had missed every one of our attempts at the goalposts. I smiled in a flash of gleaming oak, diving at an unimaginable speed and pulling back up almost completely vertically. The keeper's mouth dropped open and I casually flicked the Quaffle over to Elise. Forty points to Gryffindor.

Bella was laughing so much she missed the next goal in by the only Hufflepuff chaser who wasn't star-struck and intimidated by my new-found speed. She would have been reprimanded more by Felix, but it was pretty obvious this game was in the bag.

Taking our positions again, the furious shouting of the Hufflepuff captain slowly brought the others out of their trance. They stopped staring at the broom, a new ambitious zeal burning in their eyes as they stared instead at me. They were thirty points behind and angry, my exhibition of the broom had distracted them and they knew it. What's more, I knew it. I meant it, and I had siphoned forty points from under them as they gawked. They were going to earn every one of those forty points back tooth and claw.

Not on my watch.

The whistle blew and I snatched the Quaffle from the undeserving hands of the mediocre hufflepuff reaching for it too slowly, too slowly. I shot forward, and immediately three vengeful chasers were on my tail and a bludger whistled by my ear. What they hadn't realised, however, was that I was no longer holding the Quaffle, I had thrown it to Michael the second I had caught it, but rage made people blind.

"And that's fifty points to Gryffindor with a very impressive and manipulative play from Potter and Nixon there!" The Hufflepuffs spun on their brooms and scowled as I sped back to take my position, a wicked smile playing on my lips.

When Elise snatched the Quaffle this time, I noticed something in the corner of my eye. Melissa was darting around irregularly, she had spotted the snitch. _One final show, _I thought. Soon, everyone would notice Melissa's deliberate flying and turn their attention to her, including the Hufflepuff seeker, who I noticed was riding a considerably better broom- though not better than mine. That would give him an edge. We all needed to buy Melissa time, and it was rather obvious that I was most qualified to do so.

As the whistle blew I rocketed up into the air at full speed, corkscrewing back down and snatching the Quaffle as it was thrown from one Hufflepuff to another. The crowd gasped at my agility as I flew circles around the two enraged Hufflepuffs and the whole team began to eye me and my arrogance angrily. One of the beaters was fully staring at me, and became a sitting target to Dominic, who knocked him off his broom in an instant.

Thinking it was maybe best not to anger the Hufflepuffs too much lest the next bludger meet my face, or worse, fists, I threw the Quaffle to Michael, but it was intercepted by an angry chaser who bolted towards the goalposts in a straight line, no fancy moves, just a will to get there. I turned, hot on his tails, but it was too late, the Quaffle was falling from his fingers and almost in the goal when...

"STOP! Ladies and Gents, I can't believe it! Melissa Miller has caught the snitch! I hadn't even noticed her going for it! Apparently neither did the Hufflepuff seeker as he lands and walks off in shame, a game to go down in the books my friends, what a show from Gryffindor!"

The crowd roared, every Ravenclaw now clad in scarlet, and running for us were the Gryffindors, hoisting us all up on their shoulders and chanting, screaming. It was the first win I could really enjoy, the last one spent in the infirmary.

I, being the youngest, smallest and lightest of the team remained on people's shoulders the whole way up to the Gryffindor tower where the cheering, before having subsided a little, increased with the presence of alcohol gone 'unnoticed' by Professor McGonagall. Anything to keep up team spirit.

When in the tower, I managed to shrug off my friends and run upstairs to have a shower and wash off the sweat and grime from the match. I dumped my robes in a pile on the floor and gathered up jeans and a t-shirt, putting them on after a quick, refreshing shower. I rumpled my wet hair in the mirror and flashed a smile at my reflection, then went back down to join the festivities.

The seventh years were already blind drunk by the time I came downstairs, and when I appeared Felix threw up his arms triumphantly.

"JAMES!" he yelled drunkenly, "You were magnificent! You were like a swan! A flying swan! Have you ever seen a swan fly? I haven't. Hey, Dom, have you ever seen a swan fly..." Felix stumbled over to Dom and the two of them puzzled over whether or not swans even flew at all. I shook my head, taking a butterbeer from one of the tables and taking a large swig and winced. Either butterbeer had a higher alcohol content than I thought or this had been spiked. Most likely the latter, I thought, as my throat simmered as it would after a shot of firewhiskey.

From then on I drank in small sips, joining my friends who were all clutching their own drinks as if if they let them go they'd be spiked, and Sirius was simply holding a pumpkin juice. After the embarrassment of the last victory party he swore he would never drink again, a vow which lasted for about five minutes before Michael called him over.

"Oi, Black!" he said with a smile as his friends beside him chuckled. Sirius turned to see Michael waving a shot of Firewhiskey in his hand, and Sirius bounded over to receive it.

"You would have thought my little howler would have made him swear to never drink again," tutted Kaise, coming up from behind me. I greeted her with a awkward little hug and she nodded to Peter and Remus.

"That's exactly what he swore five minutes ago," I informed her, equally disapproving, "but what can you do?" Kaise giggled for a moment. Silence ensued. Thankfully breaking it, Remus cleared his throat.

"Well I think I'm going to bed," he announced, pushing through and making to the staircase.

"Figured you might," I said, not hindering him. Remus wasn't really a 'party person'. As he left, Melissa and Elise joined us.

"James! What are you doing sulking in this corner, come join us!" and just like that all awkwardness was forgotten as Felix cranked up the Weird Sisters on a set of speakers he'd hooked up in preparation and we began to dance and drink the night away, the common room transformed to a mass of flashing lights and laughter and quickly fading stars.

I had a horrible hangover the next morning.

_**A/N: A little arrogant, maybe, but we are dealing with the most arrogant marauder. I have had comments (and have worried myself) about some of the romance in this fanfic so far, considering that James is only twelve, but I was soothed by remembering my own puppy loves and crushes at that age. They felt just as real as I have written them, and I remember my year seven and eight being full of equal scandal. It only seemed ridiculous from my perspective now, so in answer, I don't think James is too young for this, I think he's just acting over-mature and he will have in hindsight, as did I, more perspective on the matter.**_

_**And for certain others, Sirius' girlfriend has been lurking in my mind for a while. Don't worry, she's coming. Read and Review for my my lovelies, I don't write for you otherwise!  
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	31. Fogetting is Never Good

Indeed, I did have a terrible headache the next morning.

I woke up and immediately wished I hadn't. A sliver of sunlight that escaped through a gap in the curtains pierced my eyes. I shut them immediately, with a small yelp. Before I knew it, the curtains were slung open and brightness attacked me like a bombardment of white daggers, searing my brain. I groaned loudly to find it was not only my voice which did so.

"Oh good, you're up," Remus said dryly. I thought he was standing by the open curtains, but I couldn't be sure. I didn't want to open my eyes to check.

"Leave me alone, Lupin, it's sunday," Sirius groaned, his voice muffled. He must have dived under the pillow. He sounded just like I felt. I moaned in agreement, pressing my palms into my eye sockets. Remus didn't retort, he simply went to perch on the edge of Sirius' bed. I heard the springs squeak beneath him as he sat.

"Oi, gerrof!" Sirius grumbled. But there was no shift in the floorboards, Remus didn't stand. I opened my eyes a fraction, fighting against the piercing light to see him forcing a vial into Sirius' mouth.

"Mmph, whatisthis?" he asked as he gulped the stuff and winced.

"A hangover cure one of the seventh years gave me. I made it last night, figured you'd need it," he explained, and Sirius begrudgingly took another sip.

"I swore I wouldn't..." Sirius protested at Remus' forethought.

"Yeah, look how long that lasted," I chuckled through half-open eyes. I tried to sit up, but the world lurched around me and I laid immediately back down, eyes shut tight. Remus noticed my struggle and pulled out another vial. It seemed he had made three.

"This is why drinking is illegal at our age," he chided, handing me the vial. I drank a gulp and immediately recoiled. The stuff tasted uncomfortable like the bile lurking at the back of my throat. Reluctantly, though, I drank the rest. It didn't have an immediate effect, but in a few minutes later I found I could almost bear the light pouring into our room, glaring off the clouds.

"Yeah," Sirius objected, "but it's bloody fun." I frowned at him. This didn't seem all that fun. Although something told me that last night was... not that I could remember any of it.

"I don't believe in fun, Sirius," Remus said sardonically, throwing on a jumper. "Get out of bed, the three of you, it's almost lunch time. James, you have some fans who are probably waiting to adore you." I sat up again- more slowly so I wouldn't want to throw up- and flashed him a gleaming smile.

We got dressed with some difficulty, barely wanting to stand let alone walk around to collect our clothing. The floor was strewn with last night's clothing casually tossed off as we flung ourselves into bed and our path was further hindered by empty spiked-butterbeer bottles. I collected them quickly and threw them away, hoping the house elves wouldn't rat me out to the teachers.

Lunch was euphoric. The moment I entered, the Gryffindor table erupted with applause once again, and I went to sit with the rest of the team, all who were grossly exaggerating the details of yesterday's match to friends. Dom and Felix were explaining to a gaggle of girls how they had heroically beaten away every bludger, and that they had even knocked a beater off of his broom, preventing him from hitting Melissa and ruining the match. They barked at me to confirm its validity as the girls frowned, shaking their heads.

"Oh yeah," I agreed half-heartedly, "They were the heroes of the match," my tone didn't give that impression though. It didn't matter, nobody was listening to me, most people were just besieged me with questions about my new broom just to answer themselves or be answered by the other questioners.

"How fast does that broom go, James, 100 mph, right?"

"James, that broom reliable?"

"Course it is! S'as good as an Oakshaft!"

I just ate, ignoring the comments I had heard one thousand times. It became extremely tiresome, listening to praises and praises, and there are only a few many times to thank people. I was bored now, apparently even my ego got tired in this state of post-alcoholism.

Something I did notice, however, as I looked up over my sausages, was a group of girls our age giggling in the corner. One had gone practically violet blushing, and Sirius was shifting nervously beside me. He was acting the same was Remus had over Christmas.

"Sirius, what's wrong?" I asked, following his gaze to the Ravenclaw table where they were sitting.

"I'm not exactly sure..." he confessed. "But I've got this dread in my gut, something about last night. I just can't remember." He stared intensely at the girl, who looked like she might almost pass out, and then shook his head and turned back to his food.

I felt my nausea begin to ebb, and just in time as I stood and left the hall to seek Kaise, hoping that she would know something about what had happened last night, when I ran in to my least favorite Slytherin.

"Hello, Snivellus," I greeted him as Severus spotted me and immediately looked back down to the ground, as if I wouldn't notice.

"Didn't your mother tell you it was rude to ignore people?" I asked angrily, something about his indifference aggravating me more than usual.

"She told me never to talk to gits." He spat at me, and immediately I sent a tripping hex at him, causing him to fall flat on his face with a crunch. Blood began to drip from his nose. He wiped it away angrily and stood, but more blood just flowed in to replace it. He raised his own wand.

"Now now, let's not go hexing the Quidditch star," I heard from behind me. Sirius was sauntering up behind me, twirling his own wand in one hand then the other. "Just careful, his face is his fortune."

I smiled as Sirius leveled with me. He took out his wand.

"Two against one," I jeered, nearing him, "what did your mother say about that?" I lowered my voice dangerously and Severus' left hand at his side began to tremble. His wand wavered in the air, he was clearly outnumbered.

His hesitation would be his downfall. Sirius immediately sent out a spell that left him reeling backwards and toppling over again, blood now gushing from his nose. Suddenly, the fun was gone as I realised that his nose was broken. That was a win for me, I realised. It was time to set things straight before the snitch ran to Madam Pomfrey.

Sirius was already on it.

"_Episkey!_" he exclaimed, and with a crack Severus' nose stopped gushing, its shape re-righted. Sirius looked pleased. I raised an eyebrow, unfamiliar with the spell.

"I've had my fair share of broken things..." he said cryptically. I nodded, not willing to force him into his family history.

We walked away then, as if nothing had ever happened, and met Kaise on one of the stairwells leading to the Gryffindor tower. She flashed Sirius an extra big smile.

"Hey, Black, how you feeling today?"

"Like Merlin on his deathbed," he said somberly. I knew as he did that the hangover cure couldn't completely get rid of the headache or the vomit that threatened in our chests to rise.

Kaise only let a sly smile creep onto her face. "I would have thought you'd be happier after last night."

Sirius looked at her sheepishly. "I don't exactly remember last night..." he explained.

"Oh," she said, slightly disappointed. She turned to me, "James, care to enlighten him?" she asked, but I returned with the same expression Sirius wore. "Seriously, neither of you? I didn't think you were _that_ wasted!"

"We drank a lot of butterbeer," I joked and she smiled before noticing giggling down the hall. Kaise looked over our shoulders to find the still-blushing second year Ravenclaw and her friends.

"Now would be your time to remember," she warned as the girls approached.

"Hi, Sirius," the main one said, reddening further still as he gave her a small, two fingered salute. I began to wonder if red was just her natural skin colour.

"How are you?" she asked awkwardly, her eyebrows furrowed, obviously wondering why Sirius was acting so distant. I noticed that she had a hint of a french accent, not enough for us to misunderstand her though, and her hair was a beautiful yellow-blonde. I wondered idly if this was the french exchange from Beauxbatons that everybody thought was part-veela. She certainly could be.

"I'm a little hung over," he admitted, giving me a sidelong look. I shrugged, I didn't recognize her. We definitely had classes together, but I had classes with lots of people. The girl evidently recognized our blank looks and turned to her friends, somewhat ashamed.

"Go on you guys, I'll catch up in a second." Her friends reached out comforting hands, as if to assure her that they'd stay, but she shrugged them off, insisting they go and that she'd be there soon. Unwilling though they were, they left. When they did, the girl turned with a hurt look back to Sirius.

"Do you even remember last night?" she asked quietly, and Sirius fumbled for the correct answer.

"O-Of course I do..."

"Belle," Kaise hissed in his ear as he fumbled for a name.

"Belle," he repeated as if he'd known it all along. Belle, however, was not fooled.

"It's Ok, Sirius, you don't have to remember. It wasn't very important,"

"You were just snogging her in the corner for the whole of last night," Kaise hissed in his ear. The two of us whipped around to stare at her. I remembered something about that, a small flash of a memory, Kaise telling me Sirius was hopeless, sipping her pumpkin juice. No wonder she was so chirpy this afternoon, the first year was more mature than both of us second years combined.

"Did I? Kiss you? I'm sorry I... I had a lot to drink... I swear I won't again," there goes Sirius with his swearing. He wasn't the most charming of people in these situations, all he could do was apologize as if Belle were his mother and he had broken her favorite vase.

"It's fine," she assured him, tears swelling in her eyes, "_Mon Dieu_, why would I think you'd remember, you were very drunk at the time," she turned away from Sirius, face hidden in her hands as she made to run away and share her humiliation with her friends. It was almost unbearable to see such a pretty face cry. Sirius caught her arm and took a step down so that he shared her step.

"I'm sorry I don't remember," he said in a hushed voice, a sincere sort of smile playing on his lips, "but I really wish I could." Kaise and I watched with shared sneers as he stayed very near to her and played with a lock of her perfect hair before winking and letting it fall. Belle let out a little gasp and ran to join her friends and tell them all about her wonderful new admirer.

Sirius turned back to us and, upon noticing our unimpressed faces, raised two hands in the air palms out.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Smooth," Kaise replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Shuddup," he pushed past us and continued walking up the stairs, but he didn't seem to remember where he was going, his face was all screwed up, trying to remember the kiss he'd shared with one of the most beautiful girls in our year.

"Never again, _never again_," he was chanting to himself. I frowned at him. He was certainly talking about never getting drunk, never missing and opportunity. _Never again_.

Yeah right.

_**A/N: yeah, so that was fun. Again if we're wondering about if people drink at twelve, I was always at parties with a range of ages and the older kids would try to get the younger one's drunk. Say they were 'mentoring' them. This is the same idea. Here comes a Sirius love interest for you all if you were hoping for one!**_

_**While we're still here, I'd like to inform the group that I am now in fully fledged revising mode, so for the next few weeks Marauders will not be updated as frequently as I normally would like, nonetheless I shall try to keep up.**_

_**Thanks for reading my loyal audience, and please REVIEW!**_


	32. Progress

Suffice to say Sirius was extremely awkward for the rest of the day when we finally found him desperately looking for memory charms in the library- which, of course, was the last place we looked. He was desperately trying (to no avail) to remember ever kissing Belle Delafeu. A first kiss with someone like that was not one anybody wanted to forget, let alone Sirius, who had been silently pining over her in Transfiguration the entire year.

I remembered back to sitting next to him a few times, trying to see the signs and... yes! He would stare at her inadvertently whilst I would stare at Lily and pretend not to, both of us were too enrapt in not letting the other see that we never realised we were both doing the same thing. Belle was certainly thought of as more of a catch than Lily however. She was aesthetically perfect; the picture of beauty. Her blonde hair fell completely straight halfway down her back, and her clear brown eyes could melt any heart. There was something else too, a charming innocence mixed with French arrogance. Something about the way she blushed when a boy complimented her, but how she dressed to be complimented.

But Sirius wasn't quite the man of action I had tried to be. He didn't 'grab the bull by the horns' or any other cheesy metaphor. He was more the admirer, he watched from a distance in hope. When others were watching I called him pathetic, but I knew it gave him the kind of sincerity I knew Lily longed for, and it made me jealous.

Not that I was about to let him know I was jealous.

"Quite surprising of you Sirius, snogging a girl like that. Maybe alcohol brings out the better in you," I remarked from my place stretched out lazily on the couch, hands behind my head and feet dangling off the other end. Kaise sniggered, leaning her head against my side, sitting on the floor. We had chosen the spot nearest the fire where there was quite a lack of seats, so after a minor struggle Sirius and I had landed ourselves the only chairs whilst the other three sat contentedly on the floor.

"Shuddup," Sirius said. The word had become his only defence.

"What are you going to do about your foreign affairs situation?" asked Peter, laughing at his own joke. Remus frowned sideways at him, but I flashed him an approving smile and he beamed.

"Shuddup," Sirius repeated.

"C'mon Sirius, you can't leave her like that. You are leading her on you know, the whole I wish I hadn't thing," Kaise put on an over-exaggerated boy's voice, speaking an octave lower than her natural register, sending her into a coughing fit. Even Sirius couldn't help but snort, before resuming his faraway look, staring into the fire.

"Shuddup," he said again, infuriatingly. I wanted to throw something at him. He liked her, he obviously liked her, but he was just too shy around her to do anything. I had never seen Sirius this shy, or shy at all, but apparently he was more than I knew. He was rather like Belle in that respect, both seemed incredibly confident in manner but were completely inept when it came down to it.

"Let's forget about this," Remus said, the voice of reason. Don't even get me started on Remus' girl problems. He kept shooting Cissy looks during meal times, and every time he looked down she'd look up. Unfortunately, however, it seemed that Remus was not the only person who would stare at her. Lucius had started to take an interest. He became the black streaked in her hair, whilst Remus remained her bright, genuine blonde. But we had all noticed that she had re-dyed her hair recently. Remus' chances were thinning.

The only one without girl troubles was Peter, but I rarely thought of Peter as any more than a groupie. He shared almost everything with me, and I with him and the rest of the group, but he wasn't part of the group. His character wasn't strong enough to hold his own, but having him under me to give me a leg-up meant that I could keep my head above the other two.

Kaise and I remained steady together. After the awkward moment before Felix had stormed into my room, we had gained a sort of closeness. She and I knew where we stood now. There was nothing left for us to feel awkward about, we were simply comfortable.

But we weren't finished with Sirius, despite Remus having tried to relieve him. We warned him not to say anything, threatening to turn our attention to him and Cissy, at which point his mouth flew shut and he suddenly became incredibly absorbed in and Arithmancy book he'd borrowed from a third year.

Finally realising the monosyllabic 'shuddup' wasn't adequate with such insistent friends, Sirius flailed his arms outside the armchair and groaned loudly.

"I don't know what to do, Ok? I figured I'd just go back to doing what we had done before. Maybe I'll help her on her Transfiguration, I've gotten pretty good at that late-" Remus elbowed him hard in the ribs and he doubled over, realising what he had almost let slip.

"You're going to help her with her homework? That's the plan?"

Sirius shrugged, "I s'pose so, I'm not really the great romantic gesture type," Kaise and I shared a look. Neither of us were either, but that had worked alright. And in that look, suddenly another one sparked. It had worked, hadn't it?

Without that new closeness, neither me nor Kaise would have thought of it, but with our sudden shared brain the answer became so obvious to a pair used to planning and pranking. If Sirius wouldn't pull off a big romantic gesture, Kaise and I would pull off a series of little ones in his name.

It began with all things corny and a bunch of roses magically enchanted to pulse a deep red and then go back to white every three seconds placed on Belle's seat before she arrived in Transfiguration. Sirius was always late anyway, so I got to watch Belle's reaction without worrying that she'd look over and see Sirius' confused expression.

Watching Belle notice the flowers was actually rather more comical than expected. She picked them up and turned the same shade of red the flowers were with that violent blush of hers, before picking up the card. Kaise and I had decided to leave an enigmatic five-pointed star on it in the hope that she knew what 'Sirius' and 'Orion' were, but from the small yelp and half-skip-half-jump action, she did. She turned back with shy eyes to scan the back of the classroom, but he wasn't there yet. She seemed somewhat disappointed that he wouldn't reveal himself immediately, but quite content that the games would continue with more benefits for her.

When Sirius arrived McGonagall was already in the room and teaching and the atmosphere had died down to the usual lull of lessons, but his entrance caused a stir between Belle and her friends, who all began to giggle. He simply watched her from afar as he did everyday, and ignored her more frequent stares, putting them down to their impromptu kiss.

"Giggling, _seriously?_" asked Kaise when I recounted the lesson, "Goodness that girl loves to adhere to stereotypes! I mean, I'm all for blushing and chuckling now and then but come on, it's all I've ever seen her do!"

"You aren't in her house or even her year, you barely see her," I pointed out. She ground her teeth begrudgingly.

"Yeah but still..." I knew how she was feeling. Although neither of us had said it, we'd secretly hoped Belle would throw herself at Sirius and it would be job well done, but evidently they weren't us.

So we next transfiguration lesson, we gave her chocolates which shimmered when you touched them, signed again with that single, five pointed star. She kept throwing looks back at Sirius, who returned them sheepishly, but infuriatingly neither did anything.

When finally by the third transfiguration lesson and a small paper bird serenaded Belle and then ripped itself apart, the star fluttering to land in her lap and she did nothing, I confronted Sirius about it. It was somewhat harder to than it had been in the common room, as now we were in the Room of Requirement, and Sirius was trying incredibly hard to turn a parrot's wings into paws nonverbally. My parrot was already awkwardly mimicking the sound of my triumph as it fell to the bottom of its cage, flapping its flightless ginger paws futilely.

"Sirius, have you and Belle even talked since that time on the stairs a few weeks ago?" I asked, putting the parrot out of its misery, nonverbally restoring its wings.

Sirius screwed up his face more than he had already been doing trying to concentrate on the spell and ignore my yelping bird.

"Nah not really, she keeps getting those presents from that other bloke..."

"Sirius that other bloke is you! She keeps getting the gift me and Kaise made in your name, will you please talk to her before she also thinks its someone else!" Sirius looked taken aback before slowly coming around, processing what I had said.

"What were you and Kaise doing giving her presents and pretending to be me?" Sirius asked. The question sounded redundant, but I knew what he meant.

"We figured one of you would pluck up the courage to talk to each other and stop being so bloody shy about the whole thing. Evidently that was the wrong approach."

"Evidently," Sirius agreed, still trying to decide if he was angry or just peeved that he didn't give her the presents himself.

"So, are you going to talk to her now?" I asked hopefully. Sirius breathed in through his teeth so it made a sharp sound and shook his head.

"I don't think so mate, it's a bit awkward and all," God I wanted to slap him round the head so hard. That's not how asking a girl out works! It requires communication! But Sirius was stubborn, it was one of the traits required for a blood traitor in an ancient, pureblood family. He wasn't going to listen to me whatever I said. Though I was seething, I nodded and went over to help Peter, who was looking very distressed with a fully winged parrot. All he had managed to do with saying the spell aloud was change some of its feathers to a glaring orange.

The next day, however, was progress. This time, as we sat down in Transfiguration and Belle found no gift on her desk, she decided to be the one to step up.

"_Salut_, Sirius," she said charmingly, leaning against our desk.

"Hi Belle," he greeted nervously.

"How are you?" She asked earnestly, though clearly searching for something else to say.

"Bored," Sirius confessed with a chuckle, "Transfiguration really does my head in,"

"Yes, me too," Belle agreed with a laugh that tinkled in the air and sounded like her namesake, of a thousand beautiful bells.

"I could help you if you want," Sirius offered abashed, not daring to look her in the eyes. Belle glowed, her smile widening to something much more genuine.

"Yes, I would love that!" she exclaimed with a small excited half-skip-half-jump action that seemed to be her way of showing her excitement. Sirius smiled, startled by her energy. She caught herself, noticing his reaction and just smiled pleasantly.

"Ok, so I'll see you in the library after lessons, _oui_?"

"Ok," he agreed, noticing McGonagall walking into the classroom and settling down. Belle waved goodbye and bounded back to her seat, telling her friends of their new study plans. Knowing Sirius, they probably were study plans too.

But nonetheless, progress.

"Told you it'd work," Sirius said with a smile over at me, winking and pulling out his wand to start on McGonagall's assignment.

_**A/N: Hello me lovelies, it's been a while eh? Well, here we go, another chap as promised. And Sirius has a girlfriend. To be fair, we have some issues to work through with our beloved Siri, and therefore it will take him way longer to get into a relationship than it did James, our real ladies' man. Don't worry though, Sirius will grow to be just as arrogant as his friends.**_


	33. No Shame in Retribution

The trouble with staying out of trouble is, it's just too bloody difficult.

In hindsight, I probably should have tried to be more careful when I planted that blitz of dungbombs in Professor Spriteworth's office, and when I had noticed that a goody-two-shoes Ravenclaw had spotted me, I should have aborted the operation.

Or, I should have at least come up with a better reason than 'because he gave me a low grade in my banshee essay'- which was appalling, even I'll admit- when I was called in to Dumbledore's office, where my parents were present.

But mostly, I probably shouldn't have tried to play a trick on the one teacher who treated me more like a brother than a student.

Because the thing about relatives is, they have no shame in taking revenge.

"EVACUATE!" screeched Sirius, wrapping his Gryffindor scarf around the lower half of his face. We awoke to the chaos of Sirius throwing us our own makeshift gas masks and running around the room gagging, looking for something sweet so he wouldn't have to _taste _whatever it was that was reeking in the air, swirling in an odd green mist before our eyes. This was no dungbomb. This was an enchantment.

We were awake immediately, running from the room with immense speed. We raced to the common room, but the smell seemed to have followed us, a few wafts of green fog trickling down the stairs behind us. Panicked, we continued to run until we could run no further, right out of the common room and down to the fifth floor.

Which was awkward when we ran into Filch, considering we were wearing nought but our underwear in the case of me and Sirius, and Peter was in his stupid Chudley Cannons pyjamas. Remus was the only one who looked slightly presentable, if not a little ruffled.

"Students out of bed!" he exclaimed, ambling over to us, a wicked smile on his face, "and my _favorite _students too!" I don't think that man got more pleasure from anything than when he dragged us to Dumbledore.

"Argus, nice to see you again," I said smoothly, extending a hand. Filch spat at the ground in disgust. I shrugged, retracting it. I tried internally to work out what time it was, I wasn't wearing a watch. If it was late enough, we could probably scrape by with a 'morning stroll' excuse. I looked around wildly for a clock but to no avail.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Filch growled.

"Oh, Argus, you know me, always up and about," I scanned the corridor again but found nothing. I guess I'd just have to wing it. "I just woke up and decided I needed to stretch my legs."

Filch looked me up and down. "In your pyjamas?" he asked unconvinced. But he hadn't noted the time, I was on the right track.

"Yes," interjected Sirius as I faltered, "we all thought it would make it a more spiritual experience, in the very clothes which have experienced our dreams..." behind him Remus snorted, and then immediately started coughing raucously to cover it up. Filch was frowning deeply, Mrs Norris waiting patiently behind him. But she didn't circle our legs, and he didn't retort. Because we had just surpassed that border. It was at that time where we could be out of bed because we had woken up- rather than having not yet gone to bed. Filch grumbled something resentfully under his breath and turned back the way he'd come.

We began to make our way to the library, seeing as we were already up. Sirius and I- in our most unsightly clothing- stayed outside whilst Remus found what was essentially a magical air-freshener, sure he had used it in Charms when I had tried the same thing on Professor Flitwick during an assessment. I had been wondering why it didn't go off.

Finally, the two reappeared, spell in hand.

"Madam Pince wasn't too happy with our choice of attire," Remus said through gritted teeth, shoving a scrap of paper into Sirius' hand, who in turn shoved it in mine. Behind Remus Peter nodded sheepishly. I could imagine she was not at all impressed by his bright orange PJ's, god knew we tormented him every day.

"Who cast this curse anyway?" he squealed, rubbing his eyes tiredly and looking longingly back to the staircases that would carry us up to bed.

"Uh... I think it could have been retribution..." I began, looking sudo-nervously at my friends. I knew that there was nothing they could do, but they wouldn't appreciate it if I didn't at least pretend to be sorry.

"Retribution for what, James?" asked Remus, who barely listened in on our scheming, but Sirius knew. He gasped, clapping a hand over his mouth. It only made sense, we both knew, for it to be Spriteworth, the vengeance of the same kind as the original misdeed was a dead giveaway. But although Eris and I got on like a house on fire, most didn't think of him as any more than Professor Spriteworth, the lovable Defence teacher.

I knew how Remus and Peter thought of him though. They thought he was inappropriate. There had been more than one incident in which I had had to stop Remus from reporting him, and every time I lingered behind in class to have a conversation with him, Peter would get all shifty and nervous, shooting looks at the passing students as if maybe _they'd _report him and make me upset.

People just didn't understand me and Spriteworth. It wasn't some kind of favorite-teacher-to-favorite-student thing, it was something deeper. We had sat next to each other on desperate nights in front of the mirror of Erised in a familiar silence, and had never had a problem. There was something about knowing someone's deepest desire, watching their face as it played out in front of them, that made every other social expectation seem so trivial in comparison.

So Eris and I took every possible opportunity to act as un-teacher-and-student-like as possible. During class, I would be the same ol' James, somewhat rude and incredibly lazy, but out of it, we would talk casually in the corridors and eat dinners in his office when I was supposed to be having 'detention'. He would always make me write an essay or something during it, but it rarely hindered our conversation.

Of course, nobody approved. Especially not my friends, who knew almost the full extent of our relationship- not about the mirror, of course. But they would often lecture me after one of my 'detentions' about how _inappropriate _it all was. Being best friends with a teacher. They just didn't understand, I couldn't expect them to either.

So I shouldn't have been surprised when Eris and I were called to Dumbledore's office today.

I walked in to the office to find many familiar facial expressions. Disappointment from Dumbledore, seething anger from McGonagall and a very sullen faced Peter. What I hadn't expected was the ashamed Eris.

"I think this has gone on long enough..." McGonagall was saying, whilst Dumbledore still trained his gaze on me, disappointed and something else. I couldn't meet his gaze, I felt so guilty, although I didn't know why. In my opinion I had every right. It was a friendship for goodness sakes! Hogwarts was supposed to promote that! And with this newfound anger welling up in me, I turned to bore holes into someone who wasn't Dumbledore. The only person in the room who looked more guilty then I did.

Peter was a mess. His hair was even more scruffy than usual, and he looked like he hadn't slept all night in anticipation. He was fiddling with his fingers and nor daring to look up, breathing quickly and shallowly. Like he was afraid I was going to hurt him. The fat little git.

"I'm not saying that we don't appreciate some rapport with the teachers, but this kind of immature behaviour between the two of you..." Goodness McGonagall could really drone on. It must have been hard for her, considering there were no particular school rules she could refer to in her lecture.

But I still didn't even look at her. I kept giving my best death-stare to Peter, hoping if I did so long enough he'd spontaneously combust.

"Why are you doing that, James?" asked Dumbledore, cutting through McGonagall's speech. She looked very angry at not being allowed to carry on, but only showed it for a minute and said nothing, not wanting to disrespect the esteemed headmaster.

"Doing what, Sir?" I asked innocently, furrowing my eyebrows at him. I tried my best to hold his gaze, but the searching eyes of the old man through his half-moon glasses made me uncomfortable. It felt like those blue eyes could find anything within me, reveal all of my secrets if they wanted to.

"Staring at Peter like that?" How could I answer that? Because the little snitch ratted me out? Because he betrayed my trust? Because he was _Peter, _and Peter didn't stand up against me, he stood up for me, did what I wanted. He was weaker than me, he couldn't do this...

Arrogant, maybe, but true nonetheless. Peter was my pedestal. In a friendship with two minds as capable as my own, Peter ensured my superiority simply through his own inferiority. I didn't like to think of how he felt about it, as I was clearly using him, but moments like these demanded I confronted his feelings, and I certainly didn't want to.

"Because he reported us, Sir, and we did nothing wrong," Peter let out a little squeal that was halfway through a protest and a desperate apology, but nobody paid him any heed, except for Dumbledore, who could see that he was uncomfortable.

"You may go, Peter, thank you for your help. Minerva, will you escort him back to class and explain why he was late?" McGonagall would have much rathered stay and scold me some more than returning to fidgeting idiot back to class, but Dumbledore clearly wasn't giving her the option. She gave a weak smile ridden with annoyance and beckoned Peter over, leading him out of the office squeaking half hearted apologies at me.

When they had gone, Dumbledore turned back to us and sighed. "I don't know quite what to do with you two," he said, stroking his silvery beard. "I think for the sake of doing something so that nobody else gets upset, I will have to request that all of the detentions you give to James, Eris, will be fulfilled with me. We cannot have students feeling your favoritism so acutely, it calls for unhappiness." Spriteworth nodded, looking unbearably remorseful.

"Just do your best not to be seen when you spend time together, Ok? I cannot see how I can regulate such a friendship, but I can only hope that others don't find it such a problem as poor Peter had." at the mention of Peter, Dumbledore turned to me.

"James," he said softly, "you must be careful with Peter. Weak souls are easily manipulated, maybe, but that means you are not the only one who may manipulate him. Upset him to much and you have no idea what he could do to prove to you that he's strong."

There was no need for the warning, I knew how to handle Peter, but I nodded seriously anyway.

"Well, I don't see the need to detain you any longer. You can go, you two, I just don't want to hear any more complaints about your actions. Be a bit more... _subtle,_" You've got to love Dumbledore. He was the only man intelligent enough to see that you shouldn't just try and split up a friendship like mine and Eris', you should accept it and move on. We certainly weren't going to change for anybody.

I nodded gratefully and began to make my way out, turning back to see that Eris wasn't following. I frowned at him, but he shook his head at me and turned back to Dumbledore.

"Professor," he began, "there's something you ought to know." Both the headmaster and I cocked our eyebrows at him, but Eris shook his head at me again, as if to say that it wasn't for my ears. I scowled at him but he remained tight lipped, and I knew he would until I left, so reluctantly I walked out the door and closed it before immediately pressing my ear against the wood and straining to hear. Through it, the sound of Eris' voice struggled.

"You see, Professor, it all started with a girl I knew when I was young..." and then the voice was gone, replaced with a slight buzzing. _Damn you Severus Snape, _I thought, cursing the creator of the muffliato charm, _damn you to hell. _

_**A/N: Hello, here's another chapter for y'all, and you might think it's quite odd, but I must assure you I have my reasons. Eris is going to play a massive part in James' life, but first I need the two to be inseparable, like brothers. If any of you think it's too unbelievable, think of Harry's relationship with Remus for that brief time he was 'Professor Lupin', that's what I'm going for.**_

_**Also, we have some foreshadowing here for Peter, as you've probably noticed. But before that we've had some arrogance from James. With a psychologist for a mother I seriously believe that the reasons stated above were why James ever kept the 'fat little git' around, but if you don't like seeing this side of James I can cut back.**_

_**Whilst we're on the subject of what you want, there are seven years to fill with stories, and dearest Jo Rowling only gave me faint guidelines, so if there's anything you want to see, don't hesitate to request!**_

_**Lots of love! (more if you review**_


	34. Goodbye, Not Farewell

I stalked back to the common room seething. I didn't care about being told off if I'd done something wrong- in fact, I'd gladly congratulate anyone who successfully managed to pin it on me- but when I was innocent it was a completely different story. I was so angry I skipped Transfiguration completely, staring into the fire in the common room and wishing I could push Peter into it.

And Snivellus. Damned muffliato charm.

I was racking my brains trying to find out what Eris had wanted to tell Professor Dumbledore that I couldn't hear. Something about a girl? I couldn't think what that could mean. I didn't really think if Eris with girls at all. Or guys for that matter. I suppose since we'd never talked about it, he always stuck in my head as sort of asexual.

Had he ever even mentioned girls to me before? Yes, I remembered, annoyingly, it was always to remind me of my desperate pining over Lily Evans. He had never related to me though, never told me about his own experiences. It made me sort of jealous that he told Dumbledore but not me. I mean, I knew that it was for a completely different reason, but that didn't mean he couldn't tell me. _I _was his friend after all.

I'd just have to weed it out of him, get him to slip up in conversation. Or maybe he could just tell me, that would be easier. Like he would, he used the muffliato charm on me!

That part hurt especially. He didn't just use it so that I couldn't hear, he used it so that _I _couldn't hear. He, after all, had taught me the spell. It was sending me a message, telling me he knew that I was listening, and that I shouldn't- _couldn't. _

But I'd get it out of him. I had to.

Just as I came to this resolve, three sullen faced friends walked into the room. Sirius came and sat beside me. Never outspokenly opposed to my 'inappropriate friendship', he was my greatest ally. Remus took the other armchair, so Peter was left to sit on the floor. He didn't complain or attempt to perch on the arm of Remus' chair either. He simply took the floor as the punishment he deserved, staying very quiet and looking sorrowfully down at his still-fidgeting fingers.

"Er... How'd it go?" asked Sirius awkwardly after an uncomfortable silence, marked by the incessantly loud ticking of Peter's watch, which was making me hate him more.

"Fine," I growled, turning my death stare back on the little weasel.

"Stop that, James," Remus scolded. Why did everyone have to interrupt my death stare? My annoyance shifted, and I turned the stare on him. He returned it straight on, unflinching. Remus was stronger than Peter.

I rolled my eyes and looked away, not at Peter this time. I could vaguely hear Remus lecturing me in the background, telling me that it wasn't fair of me to punish Peter, that he'd done nothing wrong. But my better judgement was still clouded with anger. Anger at Eris and his secrecy more than anything, but seeing as I couldn't very well stay angry at him for not letting me eavesdrop, it was harshly redirected to Peter.

"...And that is why giving Peter nasty looks won't solve anything." Remus finished his lecture and flopped back into his seat, as if telling me off had required physical effort.

"He started it," I said through gritted teeth. I wanted an argument, I wanted a reason to scream at somebody. But nobody was indulging me, nobody wanted to play my game. Remus just huffed and pulled out a scroll of parchment and a Transfiguration textbook, along with his pre-inked quill.

"Transfig essay," he said simply, "A foot and a half on the origins of the Beetles to Buttons spell and its uses to fifteenth century wizards," he said in a bored voice. As he spoke the words, they appeared written on my hand in blue ink. Remus had figured out the spell himself, and often used it on me to remind me of commitments I had forgotten accidentally-on-purpose. The writing wouldn't come off until I had done the essay.

I grumbled curses at him as I pulled out a sheet of parchment and my quill, and stood up to move to a table. Fine, I'd do the essay, if it gave me something else to think about other than futilely wracking my brains wondering what Eris hadn't wanted me to hear.

When I finished the essay an entire four hours later- having been distracted by Kaise for a while and because of the stark lack of material on the subject- it was dark outside and everybody had evacuated the common room, most probably at dinner. I groaned internally at the thought of having to sit down and eat with Peter squeaking apologies at me. I didn't really even care anymore.

But Eris would be marking right now, he'd be eating dinner in his office. I could eat with him instead.

I began to make my way to the portrait-hole when I remembered what Dumbledore had said about subtlety, and ran back upstairs to grab the cloak.

Finally satisfied and completely invisible, I left the common room, much to the Fat Lady's surprise as she felt her painting swinging open, until she remembered having seen me take off the cloak before.

"James Potter," she hissed, trying not to draw attention to me, "what are you doing sneaking out now, it's not even after curfew yet?"

"I'm just going to see a friend," I explained cryptically, popping my head out of the cloak so she could see me. A portrait to the side of her caught a glimpse of me and gasped, turning white and fainting. The Fat Lady noticed and gasped herself, beckoning for me to leave as she ran out of her frame to aid the poor soul.

When I reached Spriteworth's office, I took off the cloak and stashed it behind a suit of armour, ever aware that I couldn't run the risk of any teacher finding out about it. When it was safely hidden, I walked in.

I expected to see Spriteworth hunched over his desk, a plate stocked up precariously high with food on one side, his marking on the other and him in the middle, trying desperately hard to mark with his left hand and balance his food with his right, letting nothing spill and let slip the previous night's dinner when he returned the essays to their respective authors.

What instead I was confronted with was a a horrible stillness amid whirling movement. Odd vials of things I had never recognized flew into their places in suitcases, books that had previously laid strewn around, opened on different pages snapped themselves shut and flew to their shelves, the shards of Skrewt-shell lowered themselves into cases which closed and fastened.

But the stillness, the only serenity came from Spriteworth, who stood in the middle of the room, non-verbally flicking his wand at various items which packed themselves up. He watched the havoc with peace, following the objects with his eyes, lost in thought.

"You're leaving?" I asked, stunned. Spriteworth looked up at me, fog fleeting his eyes.

"Just for a little while," he assured me as the room stilled, everything packed. I looked around the room to find it void of all that was Eris, packed up into neat little suitcases.

"When are you leaving?" I asked. He looked up at me sheepishly.

"Tomorrow,"

"Oh."

The implication being he wasn't planning on saying goodbye.

I felt a sort of anger well up in me again. Was this because of our friendship? Had Dumbledore changed his mind and decided to sack Spriteworth after all? Was this actually happening?

"No, James, I wasn't suspended," Spriteworth assured me, interrupting me thoughts. How did he always know what I was thinking? "I just need to find something..." he trailed off. Oddly enough, this assurance didn't quell my anger, it just reminded me why I was angry. Because Spriteworth was hiding something from me, because he didn't tell me anything.

Because of how much I wanted him to confide in me, because of how uncomfortable I felt with someone else knowing my secrets when I knew none of theirs.

Because I wasn't in control.

And because he was leaving me.

"What do you need to find?" I asked. It wasn't an innocent question, my tone was dangerous.

"I can't tell you James," he replied calmly. Of course, I already knew that. It was the same reason he'd cast the muffliato charm in Dumbledore's office, but I persisted anyway.

"Where are you going?"

"I can't tell you that either,"

"What _can _you tell me?"

"That I'll miss you."

Two beats of silence.

For a moment I let the anger ebb, smiling slightly, and then it hit me again at full force.

"THAT YOU'LL MISS ME?" I shouted, and suddenly I heard the _buzz _of the muffliato charm, which only made me angrier, "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" I demanded.

"You're shouting, James," he reminded me. Why was he so bloody calm? I was shouting at him! Why would nobody argue with me today?

"Why won't you tell me anything?" I asked, lowering my voice but the anger still evident.

"I can't, James. It's not my place to tell you. I promise I will one day-"

"When?" I interrupted with a childlike stubbornness that astounded even me.

"When the time comes," he said, looking at me sincerely. He had the air of somebody who didn't want to talk anymore, to leave things as they were. I almost yielded, too, until I realised how angry I still was.

"Why are you being so evasive?" I cried, feeling my voice grow steadily louder again, "Why won't you just tell me what's going on? I TELL YOU EVERYTHING! YOU KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT ME! BUT I DON'T KNOW ONE RUDDY THING ABOUT YOU OTHER THAN YOUR NAME! IS ERIS EVEN YOUR NAME?"

"James, of course it is," Spriteworth said, taking a step towards me with his hand out as if to silence me. I took a defensive step back.

"GREAT, THE TRUTH! GOD KNOWS YOU HAVEN'T TOLD ME MUCH OF THAT!"

"I've never lied to you, James," he protested desperately, trying to soothe me. I should be ashamed, I knew, a twelve year old throwing a tantrum because his favorite teacher was leaving for a while, it was unbearably immature, but I didn't care. I was angry and hurt and betrayed and I wanted him to know it.

But I was done shouting. I nodded at Spriteworth's words. "But you've never told me enough," I said weakly. Spriteworth sighed and nodded, finally coming close enough to kneel in front of me and put a hand on my arm.

"I promise I will one day, but I have to go now, James."

I nodded, blinking back tears. It wasn't like I'd never see him again. He'd be back soon. Anyway, he was only a teacher. He wasn't really my friend...

No, nothing could convince me of that. But I knew that it would be Ok. I thought back to Andromeda leaving Sirius. It wasn't like that. Spriteworth wasn't my only constant in hell, I had friends here. I'd barely notice his absence.

But as I watched Spriteworth, followed by his troupe of suitcases, evacuate the classroom, I began to feel what Sirius must have felt sitting on the window ledge. What would happen if I just fell?

I shook it out of my head as I walked sullenly back to my dorm under the cloak, glad that nobody could see me and ask me what was wrong. I could feel my throat begin to hurt. It felt like a thousand tiny knives had raked through it. I coughed weakly, trying to clear it but only hurting it more.

All the anger had become exhausting. The moment I arrived at the dorm, I crawled into bed and immediately fell asleep, hoping to escape, hoping to forget.

_**A/N: That's right, Spriteworth's leaving for a while, but he'll be back. This is all part of the big overall plot, plus I realised that James doesn't actually have any teachers he really hates and that's a shame. It's like the Snape constant, it makes Hogwarts more work than play. **_

_**Again, perhaps you found the Spriteworth/James thing a bit weird but it's monumentally important for my idea of events, so you'll just have to bear with me or stop reading. I know you might have wanted to know what Spriteworth had said to Dumbledore but that's a long way off, just keep reading.  
><strong>_

_**Finally, as always, I long for your suggestions and reviews, and thanks for reading!  
><strong>_


	35. The Malignant Replacement

"Does anyone know where James is?" I heard. The voice was distant, muffled, a disturbance, until suddenly my mind cleared and I was back in my dorm, curled up in bed. I felt sticky, had I slept in my robes? I looked down to find myself in my uniform. Why was that again...?

Because last night Eris left me. Oh yeah.

"No!" Peter squealed "You don't think he didn't come back because of me..."

"Oh get over yourself, Peter," I heard Sirius say, a drawer slamming. "James doesn't give a flying hippogriff about you ratting him out, he was just out late with Spriteworth. Saw his cloak behind the suit of armour outside his office." Damn it, I thought I'd hidden it better than that!

Why were they talking about me like that? I was right here, lying in bed. I opened my eyes to see their slightly distorted figures with arms folded and eyes screwed up, trying to figure out where I could be. I blinked a few times but my vision didn't clear. _Oh. _

I pulled off the cloak, realising that I must have slept with it on. Peter gave a little yelp of surprise but the other two just grinned at me before returning to getting dressed.

"What happened last night?" asked Sirius nonchalantly, "you're still in your robes."

"Yeah," I said, getting out of bed and pulling my robes off, grabbing a towel and a fresh uniform, deciding I would rinse off the musty feeling of the night before. "Eri-Spriteworth's gone, had to leave for God-knows-why. 'Suspect Dumbledore's already found a replacement."

"Oh," Peter squeaked, looking almightily ashamed of himself. I didn't tell him that it wasn't because Dumbledore fired him, I would just leave him to feel awful until Spriteworth came back. He most certainly deserved it. Maybe I was being a little harsh on Peter, but there was just something about the betrayal that was nagging me, something that made my skin crawl. Because I was pretty sure had I trusted Peter, what happened if I started trusting him again?

We all trooped down to breakfast half an hour later, my hair dripping wet from the shower and leaving dark patched on the shoulders of my cloak. I had really let it grow long, hadn't I? I pushed my fingers through it, forcing it back to drip down my back instead, which I found was no more comfortable an experience.

"Oh dear, who drowned the beast?" I heard drawling from behind me. I turned and rolled my eyes.

"It's called washing your hair, Snivellus, ever heard of it?" I asked cruelly. He looked at his own greasy locks hanging limply around his face and frowned. But I didn't have the energy, and Severus clearly couldn't think of anything else to say, so I continued to walk to the Great Hall, leaving him to ponder.

When we arrived, I immediately searched the teacher's table for Spriteworth, as was customary, and my heart fell when I couldn't find him. _Of course he's not there. He wouldn't stay just for you, he made that quite clear. _I still felt irrationally angry at him. The anger lingered along with the hot soreness that still clung to my throat from shouting.

I found Spriteworth's chair filled with a different figure to his usual, languid shape, stretched out calmly. Instead, the man in his place was rigid and older. His freshly pressed robes clung to his body completely flat, meeting uniformly at sharp angles. He ate in a way that seemed practiced, food on fork, food in mouth, chew, swallow, food on fork...

I watched his face as he ate. It, like his robes, was flat, devoid of emotion. Perfectly straight creases ran through his forehead as if they had been carved in with a knife. His lips were thin and pursed when he wasn't eating, his jawline hard and defined as if he were constantly gritting his teeth, ready to fight. His nose split his face into two symmetrical halves, meeting smoothly to the most terror inducing eyes I had ever seen.

If eyes were the window to one's soul, this man's soul was black and cold. His irises were so dark it was impossible to tell where they ended and pupils began, starkly contrasted against the whites of his eyes. And they were just as empty as the rest of his face. They didn't exude any kind of warmth, nor a harsh, evil cold. They held in them nothing at all. Until they met mine, and for a subtle moment black pools of malice held my gaze in a stifling grip, then they went back to their emotionlessness. I almost gasped as I wrenched myself away, feeling the oddest need to pant, as if he had somehow squeezed my heart in that split second and now it needed to regain its oxygen.

"That him?" Peter asked tentatively, feeling even more guilty for having inflicted _that _upon the rest of the school.

"I think so," I said, refraining myself from pointing out that he was in Spriteworth's chair, of course it's him you idiot.

Sirius was frowning at him, and Remus shoved him hard in the ribs, diverting his attention. "What are you doing staring at him like that? He'll have it out for you, and he looks like he could easily kill you," we all laughed nervously in sincere hope he hadn't heard us, except for Sirius who turned back to glare at him.

"Don't joke like that," he hissed darkly. We all shared at worried look.

"Whatcha mean, Siri?" I asked, our humourless laughter gone.

"There's something- _about- _him-" Sirius struggled with the words as he squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated, "something familiar..." he shook it from his head with a vicious movement that portrayed a violence I hated seeing, that I pretended didn't exist on most occasions, that I pretended hadn't been bred into him from birth.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was not our first lesson that day, so I had to gather intel from my reliable source- Kaise, who had him first lesson with the first year Ravenclaws.

"I _hate _him," she hissed, stalking out to join me. I managed to slip out of Charms early to meet her, unable to wait and hear what he was like, hoping for some redeeming factors so that life didn't seem too miserable. I was sorely disappointed.

"He called me up in front of class immediately because I hadn't stood when he entered!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed an angry red, her eyes narrowed as she began to wish vibrant and imaginative deaths upon him.

"Surely he's not _that _bad?" I asked coaxingly, but she stared at me with a fury that made my throat go dry. "Oh."

I hoped that maybe this had been the sole reaction of a scorned and hormonal first year girl, and so during dinner I sought Michael Nixon, who had Defence last thing today with the hufflepuffs, but to no avail. Michael graphically recounted how Davey Gudgeon had received a lash from a magically conjured belt after having been unable to conjure up said item of clothing himself to hold up his trousers which were riding 'dangerously low' on his hips. He had refused to go to Madam Pomfrey, saying that he could do it himself, that he was fine.

"He wasn't fine though," Michael warned, "I've never seen a boy so pale in my life, you should see the welt he's got on his back, looks awful. I reckon he's just embarrassed to go to Madam Pomfrey,"

"I think he's afraid of what Malignatious will do to him if Pomfrey tells Dumbledore," Michael's friend beside him said gravely. The two exchanged a look of horrible fear, suddenly sharing in a thought I was oddly a part of.

"You don't suppose Dumbledore's finally lost it, hiring him, do you?" Michael asked in a scared voice.

"Of course not!" I objected vehemently, rejecting the same creeping thought that was seeping into my consciousness. "Dumbledore's the greatest wizard of our age!"

"Yeah..." Michael's friend agreed, "But he's getting- y'know- _old, _and- well- he's not gonna last forever..." I nudged Michael who elbowed him hard, causing him to choke a little. I stormed away then, furious at myself to even think that Dumbledore could ever go senile. But why would he ever choose such an evil man? He must not be evil, I resolved. Or at least, maybe he's a brilliant teacher, just slightly mad. I had a hard time convincing myself, but I wouldn't have long to wait to see my theories proved in Defence tomorrow, I thought as I climbed into bed. _Merlin _I missed Eris.

We made a wordless pact that morning to get to Defence Against the Dark Arts on time instead of sauntering in fifteen minutes late as we often did with Spriteworth. We were all equally terrified whilst all trying to hide it, pretending we harboured no fear for the new teacher, Professor Malignatious. We smiled weakly at each other and applauded each other's manliness or whatever the reason was that we pursued such a charade. But it all fell apart when he walked in.

Professor Malignatious had a walk that some would describe as regal. Personally, I would peg it as the walk of a dictator rather than a monarch, someone who scared people into respecting them. And if respect was what he called it, the entire room was oozing with 'respect'. He began his lecture in an icy voice the moment he entered through the doors, his clear voice barely muffled by the sounds of chair legs scraping stone as everyone hurried to stand in his presence. I fixed a cool expression of arrogance on my face and smiled a bit as he ordered us to sit back down with a disdainful wave.

"...I will not hesitate to say that I am thoroughly disappointed with the current standards of education in this school, especially in the subject of the dark arts. I simply do not see how one can try to defend that which he does not know..." with any other man the spiteful words would be filled with some kind of anger or annoyance, but in Malignatious' monotone they just sent an uncomfortable chill down the spines of the gathered students. They came out too easily, as if they were simply true.

Suddenly, the drawling stopped and Malignatious took a glance around the room, as if only noticing where he was. He stood in the middle of the circle of tables, the only thing that remained since Spriteworth had left. With a flick of his wand, we all felt our tables yanked into orderly rows at a horrible speed that made my insides churn.

"Exactly what I was talking about, lack of discipline..." Malignatious said in a dark tone. He finally turned, stilling his pacing, to regard the class. As his eyes swept over Lucius, something twinkled, some kind of mutual civility, and in that split second Sirius' eyes widened and he drew in a small gasp.

"Mr Black it must be!" Malignatious said, his ears pricking at the sound and immediately turning to stare at Sirius, eyes flashing. He looked at Sirius' bedraggled appearance, untucked robes and unevenly tied tie, black boots protruding offensively from under his trousers and smiled a little. His smile was even more frightening that his normal expression.

"Yes, _sir,_" he said, sounding more polite than I had ever heard him.

"I have heard much about you, Black," he growled, not fooled by Sirius' voiced respect, having noticed the unmistakable defiance that glittered in his silver eyes. "I must warn you now that I will not condone any of your insolence in my class." Sirius nodded, a curt nod I recognised and sometimes even feared. _Challenge accepted. _

"I know who he is," Sirius said hurriedly, pulling the three of us into an empty classroom as everyone fled by far the most horrible Defence lesson ever. "He's Hades Malignatious."

We raised our eyebrows, expecting more than that, but Sirius' eyes were widened, expecting us to share in his amazement. Our blank expressions disappointed him. He harrumphed.

"I forgot none of you were raised in a pureblood supremacist home, or you would have known the family tree. I kind of expected you to know, Potter..." he shook his head. "The Malignatiouses stemmed from the Malfoy line. He's the second cousin of Abraxas Malfoy, Lucius' father!"

Although this was indeed surprising and an interesting revelation, the rest of us were still stumped. I tried to mask my confusion, a little annoyed that Sirius expected me to know the family trees just because the name Peverell existed somewhere on my family tree, but I couldn't blame him. I had seen the tapestry of the Black family tree, I had seen Sirius staring at his uncle Alphard's name mournfully. He must have studied it so well it was a shock when anyone didn't know it.

"He's in You-Know-Who's pocket! He's one of his Death Eaters, like the rest of his bloody family!" Sirius was practically jumping with frustration and shouting uncomfortably loudly. Shouting 'Death Eater' in school was like shouting 'bomb' in an airport. I charmed the door to lock and muttered _Muffliato _quickly, satisfied with the quiet buzz which began.

"How can you be sure, Siri?" I asked, taking a step forward, trying to soothe out the manic look in his eyes. "That he's a death eater, I mean,"

Sirius' eyes flashed, "They're _all _Death Eaters." he said dangerously, "what do you think that little clump of Slytherins we found in the restricted section were doing? That night they were playing... roulette..." Sirius shuddered at the memory of his little brother, writhing on the floor. He winced it out of his thoughts and continued, "they were _practicing, _they want to join him."

"Surely Dumbledore wouldn't allow a Death Eater into school..." said Remus, trying to fathom what Sirius was saying, trying to find some reason in it.

"Maybe he doesn't know..." Peter suggested.

"Oh, he knows. Dumbledore's not that dumb." The words stung. They felt like what Michael was saying earlier, that Dumbledore knew full well what he was getting himself into. I didn't like it when people questioned him. Dumbledore kept us safe against the world, here we were always safe. I didn't have to read the Prophet and the death tolls, I could separate myself from a world waging war because here it wouldn't affect me, not with Dumbledore around.

But the second Dumbledore was gone, I wasn't safe anymore.

"Then how can he..." Remus asked, struggling for order, for control over his mind which was reeling which hideous thoughts. I knew how he felt, mine was doing the same.

"He can't know. There are pureblood laws that protect their families. He can't be accused, he can't be searched, and if Dumbledore managed to get him into the Wizengamot, Dumbledore would probably end up in Azkaban."

"Then why hire him?" I asked quietly. What had been so wrong with Eris that Dumbledore couldn't hire a teacher more like him. But Sirius shook his head.

"The pureblood families are angry. They want their kids taught dark magic, not just defence against it. They didn't approve of Spriteworth or any of the previous teachers. They've had Malignatious lined up for years just waiting for their chance. They must have sprang him on Dumbledore before he could find a more suitable replacement. What was he supposed to say, 'I can't because he's a Death Eater'?"

The more Sirius spoke, the more worried we all became with the situation. It set in slowly. We had a Death Eater for a teacher.

As long as he stayed, Spriteworth couldn't return.

_So he can't stay,_ I resolved.

_**A/N: Hades may be a bit unimaginative but I'm really bad at making up names, so sorry! Hope you enjoyed this chap, sorry it took so long but I'm in study mode, and don't be expecting more chapters from me for a while, I've got so much left to revise. **_

_**Thanks for reading, as always please review x**_


	36. Someone Loves You, Sirius Black

I quickly developed a deep hatred for the dark arts. The more we studied, the more I saw the warped minds that dwelled in the heavy, dark books. Most had been extracted from the restricted section, and more than once Madam Pince had given a notice during mealtimes, warning that anybody in possession of these books would be severely punished. That was until Malignatious stood up and announced that he had taken them for 'study' quite a while ago, and had scolded her incompetence. Madam Pince was seething when she sat back down, but didn't dare shoot him any looks for fear he'd return them with that look of malice I'd seen so fleetingly and had filled me with so much dread.

None of the other teachers appreciated the new addition to the staff either, but they understood better than the students that there was no getting rid of Malignatious legally. Not a few times McGonagall had come to 'observe' our classes with him, in which Malignatious would simply teach us from our old textbooks. Nobody could prove he was teaching dark arts.

"Why not?" Peter had protested as we contemplated the situation. In our last lesson, Malignatious had conjured up what looked like a hole in Peter's desk. When he looked down into it, a bony hand had shot up and grabbed him by the neck in an iron-tight grip. The terrified class watched as Peter's face contorted and turned purple. Sirius' face turned dark as his hand fidgeted by his wand, calculating his punishment if he dispelled the hand back to the evil depths it had come from. He knew what it was like to be on Peter's side of the spell, it was clear on his face.

What none of them had realised that the scary part was not what they were focused on, instead of the teacher behind us whose face was always so expressionless. Now, in the moment our friend began to pass out from oxygen deprivation, his face was full of pure, malignant joy.

Finally, Remus had broken the class' silence with a weak plea. "Professor..." his voice cracked, and the screen fell over Malignatious' face again. The hand disappeared and Peter rolled off his chair onto the floor, choking and coughing up blood. I made to run to him but found myself bound to the seat.

"Anyone who seeks to help him will find themselves meeting the same fate. This time I will not leave you conscious. Mr Pettigrew needed to learn about strength." Peter squealed and squirmed on the floor, standing on weak knees and sliding back into his seat with rare defiance.

Ever since then, we had all been hellbent on stopping him. But we couldn't figure out how. We were never allowed to take notes in lessons, to 'improve our poor memories', and no essays on dark arts were ever set. We had no physical evidence.

"But couldn't we _tell _the authorities?" Remus shook his head.

"We're minors according to wizard law, nobody will listen to our testimonies, and the seventh-years have their NEWTs soon, they can't afford to lose another teacher. Even so it's not certain any charges would stick if they _did _testify."

"We could video it! Like the muggles do for security!" he said excitedly, but this time Sirius corrected him.

"Muggle technology isn't admissible in any wizard court. I've tried..." He trailed off, stood and stamped his foot frustratedly. The sound of his boot slapping stone reverberated around the entire room. We all jumped, shocked, and looked up at him. Sirius' face was a turmoil of anger, frustration, fear and something else. Like... reminiscence? All of this dark magic was undoubtedly reminding him of home, and he wasn't dealing with it too well.

We shared a look as Sirius unlocked the door and slammed it on the way out. We were in the same classroom he'd pulled us into when he told us Malignatious was a Death Eater. It had become our base of operations against him since then, but every meeting had seen Sirius grow more and more depressed and sullen until he ceased to speak at all, drowning in his past. We shared a look as we heard him outside over the buzz of a strong muffliato charm, wanting to be safe.

"I'll go," I said, gaining nods from the two, who gave me a look to say that they both sent their concerns with me.

I searched everywhere for Sirius, including the library, but found him nowhere. I tried to think of where I would be if I was him, where I would hide from life when it hit me with so much force as his had done. Suddenly, I knew.

Sirius was hiding in the nook behind the tapestry where he had run to after watching Snape crucio his little brother. His arms were hugging his knees to his chest as tight as they possibly could, his forehead pressed into them and rocking slowly back and forth. He didn't notice when I drew back the tapestry to find him doubled in on himself, so I sat down next to him. He stifled his sobs, looking up at me with bleary eyes. I saw him biting his lip, trying to hold in the tears, to show me that he was still strong. Didn't he see? He didn't have to be strong with me. He didn't have to be all together all the time with us.

"Siri?" I asked tentatively, reaching a hand out to him and slowly placing it on his back. He cracked, letting out a sob, and before I knew it the wall tumbled and I was holding him to me, absorbing his sobs with brotherly protection. I cooed him like a baby, rocking him slowly back and forth, stroking his mass of black hair.

"I'm sorry..." he sobbed, "I'm... so weak... I didn't mean to... I'm sorry..."

"You don't have to be sorry," I said in between the continuous shush I hadn't even realised I was letting out, "you can be weak with me, you can be weak with me, Siri, I love you for your weakness, I love you for all of you, I love you Siri, somebody loves you, Sirius Black," The words were perfect, they were what he had waited his whole life to hear. Sirius Black was a boy without family or love, all he wanted was what he didn't have. I knew that those words could get him to look at me, finally, and wipe the tears from his face.

"Love doesn't exist," he said bitterly, wiping his nose inelegantly with the back of his hand. I frowned at him.

"Yes it does, Siri, of course it does,"

"No it _doesn't!_" he spat with that anger I so hated, "If it did then they'd..." he trailed off. I knew what he was thinking of, his parents. Suddenly, an unwanted Christmas memory flashed through my mind.

_I love Regulus._

Sirius hiccoughed a little and began to cry again, reality all to much for him to bear. He had told himself that love didn't- _couldn't_- exist. But now he knew it did, and that it always had.

"My parents don't love me." he said in a voice that full of stark understanding mingled with salt. "My parent's don't love me," he repeated, his voice growing frantic, "love exists and my parents don't love me..."

"Siri, I..."

"I knew it." he interrupted me, "I've known it all my life. When I didn't conform, when I wasn't _like _them, they grew to hate me. I tried to... get away..." he gulped, "I tried the video camera thing, taped my father doing- _horrible- _things..." his face was pale as before his eyes past horrors replayed themselves, the memories so dark and heavy in the air they were almost tangible. I wanted immediately to beat them away, to pierce them with light.

"Siri, _look at me!_" I ordered him, and slowly he tore himself away from the depths of whatever had stolen him to look at me with broken silver eyes that didn't glitter like they so often did. They looked grey now, drab and sad.

"I love you, Sirius Black," he opened his mouth to protest but I shook my head with a ferocity that startled even me and pulled him to me like a child. He tried to wrestle me at first before giving in, allowing himself to clutch my back in that juvenile innocence as I cooed him again. "I love you, Sirius Black, somebody loves you, Sirius Black."

"I love you, James Potter. I love you too, James Potter. Love exists because I love you too, James Potter." With those words Sirius began to heal, and in a few days he was himself again. He no longer went off into strops and scowled, he no longer sank into depressions in Dark Arts, instead his eyes regained their glitter and defiance became his number one priority. He began to use non-verbals in class to counter Malignatious' cruel punishments. Given, they were weaker than it would have been if he said it aloud, but the feeling he put behind them was enough.

Soon enough we began to join in his crusade. Sirius and I got very good at nonverbal spells, and even Peter improved. In our times in the empty classroom we would teach Remus to do the same. He picked it up as quickly as Sirius and I had, and together we would slowly taunt Malignatious.

"What are you doing?" Kaise asked as I came out of class, and I frowned at her.

"What do you mean?" I asked innocently, pecking her on the cheek. She wiped it off, not in any mood for games.

"I'm talking about Malignatious, what are you doing to him? He's gotten irritable lately, he's cracking. It's got to be you." She seemed almightily pleased, but nonetheless annoyed that I hadn't included. I sighed, thinking of all the things I had been holding back from her. If I lied to her again, she'd begin chasing the lies and they would unravel quickly. Soon she'd know the full extent of my trickery, and if she found out about me becoming an animagus, she might find out why...

"We're countering his curses," I said simply.

Kaise's eyes widened, "How? James, that's serious magic he's doing, it takes a really powerful wizard to counter it..."

"Or an average wizard with a powerful cause. You've just got to put _feeling _into it," I explained, thinking for a moment of Bellatrix screaming the same words. She knew what she was talking about though, maybe the best way to counter darkness was with darkness itself.

"Do you think I could..." she asked meekly. I winced a little.

"I don't know, if he catches you..." I felt a genuine concern for Kaise, a stirring at the thought of her being punished. I placed an arm on her to comfort myself more than her, "I don't want anything happening to you," I said sincerely. She blushed, and then her eyes alighted.

"Teach me!" she insisted. I frowned.

"_What?_" I asked, unsure I'd heard her correctly.

"Teach me and we could work together, I could do it with you, we could both drive him out!" her tone grew excited and shrill. In the common room, a pair of annoyed fifth years turned around to shush us but she just stuck her tongue out at them.

"Maybe," I said, frowning. It would have its upsides. With enough people irritating Malignatious, maybe he'd crack, do something wrong and be fired. "You know what? Yes."

_**A/N: The profession of love is not romantic, I'm not sure I didn't go overboard but Sirius needed to hear it when faced with the evil incarnate of my imagination, Malignatious. Sirius needs love, as much as he resents it, now he knows he has it, so I stand by my words. **_

_**Do review!**_


	37. Defeating Darkness with Darkness Itself

Kaise and I met after her Dark Arts lesson- we had ceased to call it Defence a while ago- in the abandoned classroom. This was the sixth or seventh meeting we'd had like this, and finally I was seeing progress. Instead of her jumping at my dark conjurings, she had managed to embolden herself against them, each new threat easier to handle, each dark spot flooded with her light. Watching her flourish was intoxicating. She had an intense look of concentration that reminded me why I was first attracted to her, her spark, her persistence and willingness to do anything for the sake of good- even break the rules a little.

Of course she, like Sophia, was still a spark, not a fire.

What Kaise didn't notice was what our sessions were doing to me. Each new challenge brought for me a new dark spell to cast for her to counter, meaning to defeat that which I so hated, I had to cast it. What was it I had thought so fleetingly? The best way to counter darkness is with darkness itself? I had no idea of the gravity of those words. Dark magic was frightening. Each time I raised a terrifying phantom to taunt Kaise, I felt a horrible burst of absolute pleasure. It was like a million voices promising me power, power beyond my wildest dreams. In my mind's eye the mirror of Erised suddenly became abhorrent to me, hiding away my _true _desire, power. I could have Lily Evans, all the money in the world, the Quidditch world cup, whatever I wanted if I kept casting, if with each new spell I grew more and more powerful.

When these thoughts climaxed, I would stop the spell, drained and exhausted from fighting off the voices that promised me all I could want. I had grown haggard over the past few weeks from the effort, not comforted by the fact that the oncoming holidays only promised more time spent in Hogwarts with Kaise. Usually it was Ok, once I stopped the spell. I would sit in my dorm and practice all the wonderful, good magic I knew. I would shoot sparks of different colours around the room excitedly, watching as they fizzled, losing their colour for a moment and glowing bright white before extinguishing completely.

But more often lately the voices followed me. They ravaged my dreams. They sneered at me in Charms as I desperately tried to complete the most menial of spells. They mocked my sense of accomplishment as I easily morphed this into that in Transfiguration and they quieted to a whisper in Dark Arts, to watch with awe as Malignatious terrified every soul in the classroom, except mine, which was strong with defiance and something else that wasn't quite mine.

_Reverence._

My friends grew suspicious as I began to stagger in late and sit in the dorm, shooting sparks and giggling like a maniac, watching wide eyed. It took me longer to get to the tower than usual, I found myself getting lost often, or my mind would drift and revisit my body to find that it was no longer in the place it had been left, instead I had mindlessly wandered to the other end of the castle and was being told off by Filch, who was exasperatedly trying to get me to focus so that I could refute his accusations like I normally did.

And of course, at this very moment, my mind was wandering and only just realised where I was, still in the abandoned classroom with Kaise, panting heavily.

"James? James?" Her voice was distant for a moment until it was suddenly deafeningly loud and all I could think was that I wanted her to _stop it! _But she didn't stop, she kept calling my name and shaking me until I nodded and came to my senses, placing a trembling hand on her arm trying to assure her I was alright. It only made her more frantic. "James, are you Ok? We're stopping, alright? We're not doing this anymore. Do you understand me? WE'RE NOT-"

"Ok," I coughed a little, noticing somewhat alarmingly that my had was splattered with blood. "Just... don't shout," I wiped it on my robes, hoping Kaise hadn't noticed.

"James?" she asked, her voice wavering a little, "What's wrong?" Her face was painted with fear and guilt. She could tell how taxing casting these spells had become to me. She, like everybody else, could see it in my wearied face. I was the only one, it seemed, who understood it was for the greater good. I wasn't the only one who looked worse for wear nowadays. Malignatious was growing strained. He stuttered more often than normal, let the little things slide, relaxed his grip slightly. I knew it was because of our countering. But he was beginning to guess I was the one countering. I was the one who looked most strained.

"It's nothing," I insisted, getting shakily to my feet. "I haven't been sleeping well," It was half true.

Kaise eyed me suspiciously as I began to walk- half staggering- to the door.

"It's more than that," she called after me, and I couldn't help but sigh and turn, smiling as brightly as I could at her to ease her mind. Damn that attractive persistence. "Smiling like that's not helping anything James, you look like something that just came out of Azkaban." I relaxed the smile, probably looking more melancholy than ever in contrast.

"I'm _fine, _Kaise," I insisted, rolling my eyes.

"We're stopping," she repeated.

"No..." I protested but she raised a hand to silence me, that same intensity in her eyes that made me want to grab her and not let her go.

"We're stopping, James. You aren't doing any more Dark Magic, and I'm going to learn to counter it without you, Ok? This isn't good for you." I couldn't disagree. Even now I could her the voices, luring me away from her words towards the pleasure, the way it felt when I cursed her...

"Ok," I told her, nodding. This was better, taking a break. I would feel better soon.

I would feel better soon, I kept telling myself as I made it finally back to the dorm and lay down. I would feel better soon.

Soft pressure on my bed. A hand on my shoulder. Darkness. That same pressure. Daylight. Nighttime. Warm something down my throat. Water. Darkness.

Light.

"I will _tell _you boys when he is awake, in the meantime I do _not _need you hanging around making noise in my infirmary!" a shrill voice insisted. I groaned and tried to sit up before realising how heavy my body felt. The sound attracted the attention of the arguers who all rushed to my bedside. I reached out to a pair of warm hands who took my hand and back and sat me upright. I opened my eyes to see Madam Pomfrey offering me a foul-looking medicine which I reluctantly took before glancing around to find myself indeed in the infirmary.

My friends all sat nervously by my bedside, worried looks plastered all over their faces. I smiled at them, feeling considerably better than I had over the last few days. They smiled half-heartedly back as I drank the rest of the medicine and then quickly replaced the burning taste with warm butterbeer which charged through me, invigorating me.

"What am I doing here?" I asked, looking around. Sunlight was streaming through the windows, but it had been raining when I fell asleep with no sign of letting up. "How long have I been here?"

"You've been ill, James, caught a fever." Remus explained, avoiding my second question.

"It's been a week," Sirius told me, a hand on my shoulder. A whole _week?_ What had I missed. I suddenly felt left out, cheated, like time had been stolen for me. The butterbeer turned cold in my mouth as I forced it down my throat with an audible gulp.

"A week?" I repeated, eyebrows furrowed. I looked to Madam Pomfrey, as if she'd tell me something different. She just nodded.

"And these boys have been here every day to see you, _despite _how much they've been frustrating my other patients." The three smiled sheepishly at her as she was called away to tend to another bed by what was definitely the croak of a frog.

Remus, Sirius and Peter sat by my bed and chatted about what I had missed in the past week- including a Quidditch match, a grueling loss to Slytherin. I tried to think back to having been in any practices in the past few weeks, but my memory was blurry and distorted until right back when Kaise first asked me to teach her. My heart sank to my stomach as I heard the news. Malfoy would never let me live it down. Neither would Snivellus, but at least I could knock _his _teeth in, he had no goon followers.

"Gryffindor are still in the final!" Peter piped up encouragingly, "the match is after the Easter holidays!"

"Er... yeah, speaking of," said Sirius, pulling something from the inner pocket of his robes, handing it to me and looking warily over at Madam Pomfrey, "Felix said to give you this, but don't tell Poppy, she'll probably go mad and say we're overworking you..."

I unfolded the piece of paper and let out an over-exaggerated groan, Madam Pomfrey turned around sharply, her ears attuned to the sound, but I held up a hand to signal I was fine before looking back at the paper in my hand. A practice schedule, scribbled in red ink. It basically included every free second I had except for classes and a minimal amount of homework. I handed it to Remus who frowned deeply.

"You'd think as a seventh year doing his NEWTs he wouldn't have time for all of this..." he noted, scrutinizing the schedule.

"Not... exactly," said Sirius, who clearly didn't want to stress me out further than the schedule already had, probably worried that I'd fall into another week-long coma. I urged him to finish what he was going to say. "Well, there are some _scouts _coming to the final," he said, shifting in his seat, clearly worried that the pressure would be too much for me to bear. I frustratedly opened out my hands to him as if to receive the information.

"Scouts for what teams?" I asked as he cringed. I already knew what team. The Falmouth Falcons were Felix's favorite team, and he drew many of his plays from adaptations of theirs. If Felix had a chance to play for their team, he'd practice every hour of the day- _which he's practically already making you do- _and if we lost, especially to Slytherin, his reaction would be less than desirable.

"Falmouth Falcons," Sirius confirmed. I think I winced at his words, but I covered it with a feigned yawn.

"Good luck, mate," Remus said, uncharacteristically using colloquial terms. But there was no other way to put it, I certainly needed the luck.

"You'll be great!" Peter squealed, almost unbearably cheerfully for a boy sitting by his friend in a hospital bed. It wasn't a big deal for me, I had no intention of becoming a Quidditch player in the future, but I knew that this was the dream for many of my teammates, and I didn't want to let them down. I suddenly knew why Sirius had wanted to refrain from telling me.

Still dosed up on medication, I decided to escape the world for another hour or two. I yawned again, this one real, and shuffled down the bed and under the covers.

"I think I'm going to catch up on some sleep," I said ironically, stretching as far as I could before lactic acid surged through my weak muscles and forced them back down. "I'll see you later."

They nodded and left, but Sirius hung behind, getting up from the chair he had been sitting at and perching on the bed at the crook of my waist. That was the soft pressure on my bed I remember feeling. After the night I found him crying, Sirius and I were as close as brothers. Before, any mention of feelings other than mischief and anger had been off limits, awkward, but now I didn't feel that anymore. Neither of us needed to.

So being able to share his feelings, he was able to confront mine.

"Are you Ok, James?" he asked sincerely. He didn't believe the fever had been brought on by a simple bug, not when he had lived with the Dark Arts.

"I'm fine now," I assured him meaningfully, with a small inclination of my head meant only for him.

"You were trying to beat Malignatious weren't you? You were teaching Kaise. People keep telling me strange things are happening in the first year classes." I nodded guiltily, feeling much like a child being scolded.

"It's Ok, James, you just can't do that again. You have no idea the effects dark magic can have on a person, no matter the intention. It scars the soul." It was odd to hear Sirius talk about soul when he insisted he was a man of science, but I listened anyway.

"I think I have some idea," I reminded him, gesturing around the infirmary. He shook his head.

"It gets much worse from here, James, believe me-"

"Don't worry Sirius. I hate the Dark Arts. I hate them with such an odd fury it feels darker than even they are. I'll never do it again, I can't. It goes against the laws of morality. It goes against- _humanity._" Sirius nodded in recognition of my disgust and contempt, assuring me that he had felt it too.

"Get some sleep, James, we'll see you when you're feeling better."

"Thanks, Siri."

_**A/N: I didn't really think it through in the last chapter when James offers to help Kaise. Obviously it'd be a lot more complicated than that. Therefore James would have to do dark magic and my belief is his body would reject it quite physically, James being at heart too morally upright. I don't know if this chapter was necessary but I feel James' hate for the dark arts must stem from somewhere so I speculate. Please review! **_


	38. Pick Up Where I Left Off

***WARNING* This scene has caused the story to be moved up to a T rating because I have an unfortunately sick mind and some rather gruesome things come up. If you would like to skip over the disgusting images as you are squeamish, I will be accommodating to all my readers and you can just scroll to the bottom where there is a summary of the chapter so you won't have missed a thing.**

All I wanted was to live in the infirmary, was that too much to ask? When Madam Pomfrey wasn't looking I would take out the schedule Sirius had given me from under my pillow and stare at it, considering how much longer I could pretend I was ill. Life was good in the infirmary, I got little homework and lots of chocolates from various friends. Kaise visited me every day and went through the schemes we had been setting up, keeping me updated on their progress or outcome. She generally avoided the topic of Malignatious.

I seriously considered it, the entire easter holiday I spent recuperating in there. I could get all my meals from the house elves, and learn from the bed. Maybe once I had learnt everything, I could become a teacher. I would bring my whole class into the infirmary and draw the curtains and expand the room like my dad did once with one of the forts we used to make with sheets. I would use the muffliato charm so that Madam Pomfrey wouldn't get angry at me for disturbing her students, except I wouldn't be calling her 'Madam Pomfrey', she'd be Poppy. My students would think I was terribly eccentric and cool, looking at me with the same idolatry they did Spriteworth. Except for the Slytherins, but there was no pleasing them.

And maybe Kaise and I would get married and in this bed and we could have kids who'd grow up in Hogwarts because I'd be a teacher there, and they would learn all the secrets of the castle I never did because I was living in the infirmary and give just as many teachers hell as I had.

Or maybe, even better, Lily would feel bad for the bedridden boy who had exhibited affection for her and Kaise would fall in love with another invalid instead and Lily and I would get married and we could live in the infirmary together and most importantly, I would never have to face Felix and these blasted Quidditch practices.

But I couldn't live in the infirmary. I knew when I awoke to the flustering of Madam Pomfrey and a dreadful wailing that came not from the feminine mouth it should have been, but instead a poor, frightened boy. I sat up in bed, slightly faint still from the fever, to see laid out on the bed beside mine the mess of what I thought was a boy.

He was naked apart from a pair of briefs and shuddering perhaps from the drafty castle or maybe from the awful thing that had been done to him. I had to reach for my glasses- which I rarely needed- to make sure what I was seeing was correct. I recoiled as I realised what I was seeing. The skin on the entire left side of the boy's body was either so thin the muscles could be seen through it or just plain gone, ripped off his body so he looked somehow more naked than he did just simply undressed. His muscles still pumped and blood still flowed, though some spurted from the ripped skin on his left side and formed a layer of crusted brown, caking the wound and giving him back some dignity.

I turned away, removing the glasses, wanting to gag. I could still hear the wailing though, the gurgling of pain from behind me that made me want to run to greenhouse two and tear every mandrake from their roots so that maybe then their screams could drown out the _pain. _It was enough to make a person go mad, listening to the horrendous agony that tore through the muted afternoon. It seemed to suck all the energy from the room just to wrestle out, leaving everything in its wake darker and deflated.

I heard a dreadful shushing and cooing of a girl as the sound persisted, growing louder despite the desperate efforts, the shaking sobs and surely cringing touches and yet such a softness. I turned again to see a small girl by the boy's side as Madam Pomfrey ran from his side to one of her cabinets to find whatever could help him. She looked terrified and yet she stayed and stroked the hair that still remained thankfully atop his scalp, I don't know how I would have reacted to an exposed brain.

The girl had short, pixie like hair and a gentle face, and though something about her looked too awfully small to possibly be strong enough to bear such a sight, she remained adamantly beside the ragged boy as he yelped and whimpered at whatever Madam Pomfrey was dabbing on him.

"What happened, my girl?" she was asking the girl beside him, who was still looking at him with pity, stroking his hair despite the blood that stained the sleeves of her shirt. She wasn't wearing a robe, just the grey skirt some girls wore underneath and her shirt, a Gryffindor tie having been pulled down hurriedly so that it hung wonkily at her collarbone. She was speaking rapidly but calmly.

"I found him lying on the floor outside the greenhouses, so I levitated him here as fast as I could, he was wearing a yellow tie when I found him, I think it's Frank Longbottom, miss, he's a second year hufflepuff,"

"And what's your name girl?"

"Alice Fletcher," she said with confidence, gladly taking some of the ointment Madam Pomfrey had offered her and helping her rub it tenderly into the thin layers of the boy's skin, causing it to thicken and turn a healthy pink colour.

"There's nothing this stuff can do about the other parts, it can only make the skin thicken, not grow outwards. I'm going to have to stitch it." Alice nodded, waiting patiently as she grabbed a needle and flesh-coloured thread. I wanted to turn away as Madam Pomfrey brought the needle to flesh, but I couldn't stop staring. She began to stitch long lines, not pulling them taut but leaving them just tight enough to form a film over his organs, making the sight somewhat less gruesome. Frank screamed with renewed fervor, unable to keep the animalistic screeches from tearing from his lips and piercing the ears of us all. I noticed others in the infirmary watching on with pity.

Before long, Alice had taken up a second needle and threaded it, passing it perhaps even more softly through Frank's skin so he managed to hold back the yells and only let out groans now and then. She worked quickly with the healer, the two of them soon turning him over and working on his back, and then over again to stitch up the mangled parts of his face.

Soon, Frank Longbottom's entire body looked stitched, like a fraying doll. The two women stood back and admired their handiwork as Frank groaned quietly, his newly-sewn eyes closed as much as his threaded lids would allow. He looked much more like himself, but still a monstrosity.

Madam Pomfrey raised her wand then and began to mutter the longest incantation I had ever heard. Immediately the screaming restarted as Frank began to writhe, the threads melting and steaming as they reacted with his skin, becoming part of it, joining with the other threads and strengthening, moulding skin where it had been missing.

Suddenly, Madam Pomfrey's eyebrows furrowed and widened as the remaining threads began to tear themselves from Frank's skin with a _twang. _They carried on, _twang, twang, twang, _until nearly his entire abdomen was exposed and Madam Pomfrey remembered what she was doing. She began to shout the spell, weaving certain words and spells I knew, I had used them to counter Malignatious' dark magic. Her wand shot out with bright white which seemed to spread and encompass her entire body until she was a ball of light and energy, spreading over Frank as well and causing all the threads left to form skin and spread right up until the final edges met and they both collapsed, exhausted.

Madam Pomfrey dragged herself to a chair and sat as Alice hurried to grab a glass of water from a jug by another patient's bed and brought it back over to her. She drank it thankfully and reached for another, but Alice looked back to find she'd already finished it. I grabbed my wand off the side of my bed.

"_Aguamenti,_" I said, sending a small stream of water into the glass, which Madam Pomfrey gulped down thankfully.

"Mr Potter, I'm sure the teachers at Hogwarts would appreciate it if you learnt sixth-year spells in you _sixth year._"

"But then you wouldn't have had any water, Miss," I said innocently, winking at Alice. She smiled politely in acknowledgement of my joke, but she didn't seem impressed like other girls would be. She wasn't challenging either, she just had no desire to be anything to me other than a friend. It was refreshing.

"What happened just now?" she asked, turning back to Madam Pomfrey, whose panting had stilled.

"What I just used was Fleshfibre, a healing thread which turns into stitches. Only particularly good healers can use it right, but not because of the stitching, because of the complicated spells that follow. It's hard but very effective, but this time it wasn't _working. _It was like the body didn't want to be healed, so it cut the chords. It felt like dark magic, if I'm telling the truth."

"Then what did you do to make him better?" I asked, still trying to blink away the spots from behind my eyelids burned there from Madam Pomfrey's light just a few minutes ago.

"Even good magic can be dangerous. To increase Mr Longbottom's health, I needed to give him some of my own. I have to lie down now, I must rest," she said, excusing herself from the room and leaving me and Alice to look at Frank, peacefully asleep as if nothing had happened, his skin perhaps a little pinker then usual. Alice kindly took the blanket from the foot of the bed where he had kicked it and pulled it over him, then proceeded to sit in the chair beside the bed where Madam Pomfrey had just been.

"You're staying?" I asked, confused.

"Frank helps me with Herbology sometimes in the library. I want to make sure he's Ok."

"You were amazing," I said, and for once I meant it with absolute sincerity, I wasn't just saying it because she was an attractive girl. I was saying it because I was truly inspired by her unshaken hands as she literally sewed a boy back together again, confidently and with a beautiful care.

"What are you and Kaise doing?" she asked immediately. I was taken aback by the abruptness of the question and it took me a few moments to gather my thoughts.

"What?" I finally asked.

"I'm Kaise Sommerson's roommate, and I sit next to her in Dark Arts," her eyes flicked momentarily to the door behind which Madam Pomfrey had disappeared but she didn't appear to have heard that the students were no longer calling it Defence, "She's doing something, stopping his spells or whatever. It's been driving him nuts. He's been on edge all the time lately, looking over his shoulder, his spells becoming more rash," her eyes wondered down to Frank.

No.

But of course, why else would dark magic interfere with Madam Pomfrey's healing? Because dark magic caused the wound. Frank Longbottom was one of the sweetest boys in my year, but he was still not the brightest sneakoscope on the shelf. And he tended to stumble over his words. If he met Malignatious outside the greenhouses in the state Kaise and I had put the teacher in, it was unlikely he would get away with it unscathed.

And Frank Longbottom had looked very much scathed.

"You think...?" I asked Alice in a frightened voice, wincing as she nodded sincerely. It was our fault this had happened, me and Kaise's. I felt sick as the realisation struck me over the head. We had unhinged the professor hoping that he would slip up, do something horrible and drastic and we could go running to Dumbledore or better the Ministry and he would be fired, leaving all of us in peace. But of course, all of this meant that he had to do something drastic, and I had never considered what that would be.

I had never considered that Malignatious would hurt somebody, not just choke them but properly hurt them. After what I had just witnessed however, I knew I had been stupid. Of course, the teacher who was evil to the core would have no trouble torturing a student, the man's soul was too fragmented for a conscience. Of course our actions would therefore lead him to hurt someone like I had just seen, and we could do nothing about it.

When he had hurt Davey Gudgeon, poor Davey had been too afraid to tell anybody lest Malignatious seek to reprimand him, and therefore nothing could be done. It would be the same in the case of Frank Longbottom.

So I couldn't live in the infirmary. I had to get out of bed and finish what I had started, get rid of this horrible teacher for good. After what I had just seen, such things couldn't wait another minute. I got out of bed and grabbed the robes that laid folded on my bedside table. They were the robes from when I first came into the infirmary a month ago. I had wasted too much time indulging myself. The holidays had been over for a week. I had things to do, I had to stop being selfish.

I had to think of Felix and the Falmouth Falcons, I had to go to the Quidditch practices and make up what I'd missed to give him the chance of playing for the team of his dreams before the season ended and he had nothing but a few lower-than-average NEWTs to fall back on and no backup plan.

I had to think of Remus and get back to trying to become an animagus, to go back to work with Sirius and Peter so we could help our friend not tear himself to shreds every month.

I had to think of humanity, and find a way to put Malignatious behind the unforgiving bars of Azkaban.

With this new resolve, I changed quickly, smirking at the blushing Alice Fletcher for a moment, and strode out the room and towards my dorm, ready to pick up where I'd left off.

**Summary for the squeamish among you: Frank Longbottom was brought in after being cursed with dark magic causing a large wound. Alice Longbottom sat by him. She made James realise that the wound was the work of Malignatious and that he just couldn't sit around in the infirmary, he had to make things right. The chapter ends with his walking out the infirmary.**

_**A/N: Hello readers, sorry for putting you through that horrible imagery but I swear it was necessary. Nothing will ever be as horrible as that again, I promise, don't stop reading! I am getting rid of Malignatious soon, I promise, so stay tuned! My exams finish next week and then I'm all yours.**_


	39. Still Shaking, Rookie?

"Potter!" exclaimed Felix as I jogged up to the lake. The pitch had been booked by the Slytherins for the rest of the week to slight us Gryffindors, but Felix- determined to beat them- had simply moved his excessive practices over to the grassy area beside the lake, bringing with him all the balls he and the other boys could manage, to slight the Slytherins.

Tensions were running high about the match. The Slytherin vs Gryffindor pranking was at an all time high, and whilst most of the team still had green-and-silver highlights, half of the Slytherin team got off much worse with elephant trunks or lion paws. The beaters had both, and I had watched them from the window in the infirmary with a pair of omnioculars enough to know that they were having a hard time. Madam Pomfrey hadn't been able to remove them when they came in during the time that they had come into the infirmary when I was still ill, but had unfortunately assured them they would return to normal by the match.

By Felix's orders, who wanted a fair fight. It made for a better victory.

However, the lack of a pitch had taken its toll. Without the right ideas of spacing, the team often flew into each other or surrounding trees, and they had lost two snitches. My arrival had given the team a new blast of hope, especially with my firebolt in hand.

"Good thing you're here, mate," Michael mumbled as Felix began another sermon, "one more day and we would have had to look for another star chaser," he said, and though it sounded like a quip his tone was sincere.

"Well I'm here now, and I've been watching the plays. I should catch up quickly."

"You'd better."

"... In the words of the Falcons," Felix continued, rounding up his speech, "_Let us win, and if we don't win, let us break a few heads._" Michael snorted.

"I don't know why he's a fan of such a rubbish team. Even the Cannons beat them a few years back! _And _they're violent. They're more likely to take a Slytherin if I'm being honest..." Bella was whispering to Melissa, who was nodding seriously.

"What's that?" I asked, turning around. The two looked at each other, as if wondering if they should tell me, before Bella nodded.

"Felix and the Falcons, they won't take him."

"Why not?" I asked obstinately.

"Because he's too good a man, he's too moral in the way he plays Quidditch. The scouts coming are the Broadmoor brothers, the old Falcon beaters who retired five years ago. They hold the record for fourteen suspensions in the British and Irish tournament. They'll be looking at George Flint or one of the other Slytherin thugs. Felix isn't like that, he's too strategic." The rest of the team had joined the discussion, bar Felix, who was drawing up another strategy on one of the three chalkboards he had lugged out of the Gryffindor changing room.

"Why are they his favorite team then?" I asked, confused. Dominic, who had been Felix's friend the longest and would also be leaving Hogwarts at the end of the year turned to me.

"Have you met his father?" I opened my mouth to reply that I hadn't, and what did that have to do with anything when Felix looked up to see his team members crowded around talking and not looking at his new play.

"What are you all nattering about? Come and sit back down immediately, I'm not finished!" We all gave a hyperbolic sigh that filled the air and sat back down cross legged on the moist grass.

Soon Felix's talk was over and we were finally allowed to kick off into the air. I felt the tension of my new resolves fall to the ground as the firebolt and I gained altitude, and suddenly I forgot why I had ever been in the infirmary in the first place. The wind caressing my hair was enough to make me forget even Felix's plays.

Felix's voice however, was not. I heard it from a distance before realising that I had flown much higher than the rest of the group, and they were staring at me in annoyance, not wanting to aggrivate Felix further but wanting to start the game. I corkscrewed down and into my place, hovering between Elise and Michael.

We practiced from hours, repeating the same elementary plays before adding to them, embellishing them to look astetically pleasing as well as effective. Felix had us flying like ballerinas, daintily swerving and looping.

"The Slytherins hit hard," he explained as Dominic finally raised a complaint- the only one brave enough to do so, "but they hit straight. They want to get from A to B in the shortest amount of time and they don't care who's in their way. If we get possession, flying like this we can dodge them so they can't get us. Their bludgers will go wide, and their human bludger technique had no effect."

I had heard about the human bludgers in my time in my hospital bed hearing about the brutal defeat. Emma Vanity, the Slytherin captain, had organised for the bigger boys to get the faster brooms and just drive themselves towards the Gryffindor players, knocking them off their brooms and then winning in sheer numbers. Madam Pomfrey had informed me that she had used up most of her Skele-Gro tending to the wounded players.

Felix seemed unaware of why everyone was so reluctant to fly as he insisted. A team who flew with grace would not be appreciated by the Falcons. It seemed like Felix was doing everything he could to sabotage himself.

He was right, however, about his technique. The Slytherin players were all fifth years and up and, except for their captain Emma Vanity, were the burliest boys she could find. With players like me, a still-weedy thirteen year old, we could not match them in strength.

Rather embarrassingly, the girls and I picked up the method the fastest, able to twirl lightly in the air and sucessfully avoiding the reckless bludgers sent hurtling towards us by Felix and Dominic.

"Like an effing ballet dancer, Potter!" Michael called back to me as he awkwardly threw his broom left and right as the bludgers came his way. "Oi, Browning, Perkins, calm it down, will you? You're gonna maim one of your own players!" he protested, at which point the two nodded an pulled out their wands, pointing at the bludgers that sped back towards them, preparing for the force of their bats.

"_Immobulus!_" they said together and the balls dropped neatly to the ground and into a case which immediately strapped them up before the spell wore off.

When the summer sun had finally set, Felix decided to release us, sweating and tired. We stumbled back to the dorms together as he levitated the Quidditch supplies back to the changing rooms, explaining that he needed time to think.

"What were you saying about Felix's dad?" I asked Dominic as we said goodbye to the girls and went up the staircase to our own dorms. Dominic shook his head.

"You'll see him at the match next week, then you'll understand."

When finally the match came, I had never felt more prepared. The team had practiced every day for hours, and Felix had even gotten us special permission to get out of class for practice from McGonagall, who would do anything for the team. I was the envy of my year, however the NEWT and OWL students didn't hesitate to give Felix dirty looks.

The day before, we had no practices however, which was very unlike Felix.

"SLEEP." he had insisted as we all appeared wearing our practice robes and ready for last minute advice by the lake to find that there were no boards set up and no balls in chests. "Go back to bed and do not get out until tomorrow morning, I want you all well rested. If you can't sleep, here's some light reading material."

Immediately beside him appeared a stack of books tall enough for Felix to lean on. "All the plays from this year," he explained, handing them out to everyone with a flick of his wand. Most of us therefore chose to sleep.

I sat at breakfast well rested and itching to go, having followed Felix's advice, worried if I didn't he'd find out and hex me. Kaise sat beside me, holding my hand under the table as I ate with the other and nodded on to the encouragement of my friends.

"Slytherin have no idea what's coming!" Sirius exclaimed. He was dressed and ready for the occasion, and had dyed his hair orange and painted his face red. He looked ridiculous, but was grinning nonetheless, especially over at Bellatrix, who was seething about her blood-traitor cousin.

"I think Slytherin will be able to deal with _what's coming_," droned a voice behind me. I turned to see Lucius Malfoy, green-clad, a wicked smile on his face and Cissy on his arm. She looked guiltily at Remus who stared down into his plate and pretended not to notice.

"What's the problem, Malfoy?" I shot back, "jealous that you're too ickle to play Qwidditch?" Malfoys eyes flashed but he cooled quickly. He, of course, did not make the cut of Emma Vanity's thugs.

"A monkey could beat _you, _Potter, I see no point _me_ bothering."

"Likely story," Sirius growled, knuckles gripping his fork having gone white as he saw his cousin latched to the abhorrent boy. Her haid was dyed even more black then usual, with random strands of green.

"Don't believe me, Black? Your cousin does..." Sirius shot up, brandishing his fork and knife, practically snarling. Cissy yelped.

"Sirius!" I yelled, stepping between him and Malfoy, "leave him, he's not worth it." Sirius sighed and sat back down

"Don't waste all your energy trying to train your savage friend, Potter," Malfoy drawled, unfazed by Sirius' attempted attack, "save it for the pitch."

"I could beat you with my eyes closed," I snapped.

"Likely story." Malfoy sauntered off, pulling Cissy with him, who looked like she wanted to say something.

"I hate him," Kaise said, turning back around on the bench to face Remus and Peter, noticing the strained expression on Remus' face. "What's wrong with him?" she murmured so only I could hear.

"It's complicated," I replied, shrugging it off. She turned around to look back at Cissy and Malfoy and gave a sigh of understanding before turning back.

"You're too good for her anyway," she said to Remus with a smile, but he just groaned and filled his plate with more toast, downing pumpkin juice like it was firewhiskey.

"You ready, Potter?" asked Felix as he walked past me, collecting team members as he walked down the table. I nodded and stood, waving goodbye to my friends. They grunted 'good luck's at me through full mouths and I smiled before we began to walk again, picking up Elise and Melissa on the way.

I got dressed into my Quidditch robes with shaking hands. As ready as I felt, nothing quelled the nerves of an oncoming match.

"Still shaking, rookie?" asked Bella behind me.

"Maybe a little," I admitted, snatching up my firebolt and pulling out some polish my dad had sent me in preparation for the match. He had promised to be here today, but I didn't mind if he didn't make it. He and my mother usually got called away doing this and that for the ministry, spent a lot of time training dragons for Gringotts.

"You and Felix both," Dominic noted, casting a look over to Felix who was furiously reading his playbook again, his face reddening as if it took physical effort for him to memorize it. "It's his dad, I'm telling you," Dom continued, "He's always like this when his dad comes to a match, he's already in the stands you know."

I peeked out of the changing room to see the stands beginning to fill with a slow trickle of students. Most were still at breakfast or getting ready with supporting colours, but those who wanted a good seat came early. Most were clad in Gryffindor colours, the Slytherin house being the least popular between the students.

Among them were adults as well, some Professors of the school mingling with parents and scouts. I saw Abraxas Malfoy, his long white hair unmistakable, shaking hands with one of the Broadmoor brothers, Malignatious on his other side. Though his son wasn't a player, he was a great patron of the Slytherin team.

"Which one's his dad?" I asked, scanning the crowd but unable to find anybody who looked even remotely like Felix.

"There," Dominic pointed at someone behind the Broadmoor brothers, a large man who was waiting eagerly to meet them but wary of their companions. He had the same hair as Felix- what little was left of it- though that was the extent of their resemblence. Whilst Felix was muscular, he was still quite slim. This man was broad, so much so that one would think he was obese except for the hard muscles visible under his shirt. His face was fixed with a frown rather than Felix's gentle and oddly studious look.

"_That's _him?" I spluttered, the man was so unlike Felix. His face was screwed up and he wore his robes roughly, as if he'd much rather be in a sleevless vest and scruffy trousers like some kind of biker. His eyes shone as he looked upon the Broadmoor brothers, waiting to gain their attention and yet not wanting to talk to them, quite content with silent idolatry.

"Dad! Dad!" Felix strode across the pitch waving at his father. The Broadmoor brothers turned behind them to see Felix's father closer than they would have expected. His face reddened in embarrassment and then turned to anger at his son and he stormed down to meet Felix.

Dom cast a spell and suddenly the world exploded with sound. Felix's voice carried loudly as he spoke with his father. I frowned over at Dom and then to everybody else. The spell seemed to only have had an effect on the two of us. I didn't say anything, for fear I'd go deaf, but Dom nodded at me as if to say that that was what the spell was supposed to do. I turned back to the conversation.

"You totally embarrassed me in front of the Falcons you wretched boy!" Felix's father growled. He made to hit Felix but he dodged. "Let me hit you goddam it! It'll probably look better for the Falcons, you'll look tougher, you're too weedy anyway..."

Felix looked disheartened, his shoulders slumped as he took the abuse from his father. I began to feel a horrible sympathy for Felix. His father wasn't quite Black worthy, but he was close.

"It's gonna be great, Dad! The team are going to pummel Slytherin, I promise!"

"Promises mean nothing." Felix's excitement fell flat next to his father's bored attitude. "I'll see it when you win."

Felix nodded and turned away, the encounter evidently not what he had expected. The world returned to normal with a small _pop_ and I was left with a new understanding.

"That's what I meant about Felix's dad." Dom mumbled as Felix walked past them. "He's a right git."

_**A/N: I found I was going on for too long so the Quidditch match will be next chapter. Also, before you argue, James is THIRTEEN as he must be twelve to be in second year and his birthday is in March. Here's another mean father for y'all!**_

_**Hope you enjoyed, Quidditch scene soon :)**_

_**Also, exams are over so I'm all yours again**_


	40. Flesh Memories

My heart was drumming in double time as I gripped my nimbus 1000 in my hand, half-petrified that a Slytherin might summon it last minute and I'd be left broomless and on the ground when the whistle went.

"Breathe, Potter," Michael muttered under his breath to me as we looked out into the stands. Crowds chanted back and forth with equal fervor, yelling the names of their team's captains. The Slytherins spat viscious rhymes whereas the other houses cheered the Gryffindors lightheartedly, meaning all in all the Slytherins recieved virtually no recognition at all through the crowd.

That, however, did not stop their relentless peacocking as they took off into the sky and lapped the pitch, Emma Vanity in the lead. Her face was twisted into a cruel sneer which made even a rather attractive girl like herself unsightly and intimidating. She looked even more so surrounded by her team of thugs, all who flew indelicately in a V behind her, their unfortunate brooms groaning under their bulk. The Broadmoor Brothers looked impressed.

"... and of course, the clear favorites of the match with the triumphant return of their chaser, James Potter, make some noise for GRYFFINDOR!" Davey Gudgeon shouted down the speakers, almost deafening the crowd had they not been louder.

We kicked off into the air behind Felix and began to fly as we had practiced. I was so nervous the feeling felt less like freedom and more like my body lurching away from my stomach and leaving it somewhere back on the ground. I moved automatically through the exhibition before flying into place and tried to remember where I was, what I was doing, the importance of winning.

Trying desperately to focus.

But I couldn't. I was entirely engulfed in my own nerves I barely noticed Sir Aeroson stepping out onto the middle of the pitch, whistle in hand. I looked around desperately for Kaise to steady my nerves, but even locating her sitting next to Alice wasn't enough to calm me down. I knew that there was only one thing that could stop my racing mind.

Somewhere in the distance a whistle blew and the quaffle was in my hands, yanking me rudely back into reality. I began to dart between the Slytherin players, tossing the ball to Elise right over the head of a Slytherin defender who easily twirled around the Keeper and scored. We resumed our position.

I began to feel the rhythm of the match, avoiding the eyes of ugly Slytherin boys who I was more intimidated by than I cared to admit. I still felt the pressure mounting. Every loop and twirl was another point against Felix, despite the ten in his favor. Bludgers were beaten with more force in desperation, the team obviously having relied on strength until this point and unable to do anything else but hit and hit hard. Our beaters had a hard enough time deflecting them, but we had given up all hope of knocking any of the players off their brooms. Our best chance was that Melissa would be faster than their maladroit seeker.

The quaffle in my hands again I drove for the goal a third or fourth time- it was Davey's job to count, not mine- when I felt a bludger whistle right past me, grazing my ear on its way. The sound was accompanied by a crunch, a scream and a whistle signalling a time out of ten minutes. I looked around wildly to find the worst.

On the ground, in a crumpled bloody heap, laid Dominic. His arm was bent backwards at an unnatural angle and his beater's bat laid splintered by his side. He was biting his lip in a clear attempt to keep it together and not let the Slytherins take his dignity, but more so for Felix's sake, who was shouting.

"What do you mean you're going to have to take him to St Mungo's? I need him to play!"

"And _he _needs a healer, Browning, I don't have any Skele-Gro left!" Madam Pomfrey yelled back, exasperated. She shot a look at Sir Aeroson, who mumbled something about a penalty.

"We bloody should get a penalty! Animals, the lot of them this team!" Felix ranted. Melissa placed a hand delicately on his arm and pulled him out the way of the first aiders with stretcher came to take Dominic away. Felix looked defeated. There were two bludgers, two enemy beaters and one of him. Already he had had trouble with Dominic keeping the bludgers from Melissa, now they had no hope.

"Someone wants to speak to you," Elise said quietly, tilting her chin towards the stands where Felix's father was standing, arms crossed. "You've got eight minutes left."

Felix trudged towards his father completely disheartened. His father's frown was so deep it seemed to penetrate his skull.

"WHAT THE BLOODY MERLIN WAS THAT, BOY?" he roared so loudly I didn't need a spell to hear them. "YOU'VE GOT YOUR PLAYERS PRANCING ABOUT LIKE PIXIES, WHERE'S THE HEAD BASHING? WHERE'S THE STRENGTH? THOSE GODDAM SLYTHERINS ARE PLAYING _QUIDDITCH, _I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING!"

"We're playing too-" Felix was cut off with a slap right across his face, making a sharp sound. There was a gasp from the watching spectators who were confused about what was going on. Felix's face went a shade to match his newly developing bruise as he realised the whole crowd was watching him.

"I know what I'm doing." he said flatly, then turned from his raving father and walked towards the changing room, ignoring our attempts at consoling him as he walked past.

I followed him into the changing room, despite the protestation of my teammates. Felix stood in front of his chalkboard, looking over his final play.

"Felix?" I asked tentatively. He acknowledged me, but didn't move his eyes from the board.

"You're taking the penalty, Potter."

"Ok, but Felix are you alright? You're father..." I gestured to my cheek, mirroring his.

"My father doesn't know the first thing about Quidditch."

"That's not what I meant." Felix sighed and looked away from the chalkboard, sitting back down onto one of the wooden benches and pushing his fingers through his sweaty hair. He touched the bruise and winced.

"It's not the first," he admitted, "but I don't care. Once I get into the Falcons it will be Ok." I cocked an eyebrow.

"You really want in to the Falcons?" I asked, casting a glance back to the Broadmoor brothers in the stands. They were looking impressed and nodding along to what Abraxas was saying. This was clearly not directed at the Gryffindor team, no matter how far ahead we were points-wise.

"The Falcons have been my favorite team since I was old enough to ride a micro-broom. I've had their poster hanging up by my bed since first year, they've always been the dream." he sighed and shook his head.

"But they're nothing like you."

"They are- were- the only thing my dad and I had in common. Merlin, James, I'm doing badly in most subjects. I've got nothing left but Quidditch, I've made such a mistake!" he let out a long groan and stood, snatching up his broom. "I'm sure there's a job selling owls in the menagerie or something in Diagon Alley."

"Felix-"

"Grab your broom, Potter. Time out's over."

I swung my leg over my broom, grabbed the Quaffle and flew to the goalposts. The Slytherin players stayed well away as I hung in the air, staring down Emma Vanity. She snarled at me as I stared her down, eyes flicking to each of the three goalposts, wondering which she would go for. I could sense her following my gaze, thinking the same thing.

The moment faltered as we hovered, chaser and seeker, the crowd dimming in sound and colour until finally I found it. Her.

Lily Evans.

I immediately faked left and scored into the far right goalpost, far from the lunge to the left Vanity had taken. The game returned to me as easily as it had seemed before it was ever competitive. The crowds ceased to be a distraction and became once again a motivation. Swerves were less mechanical and more natural, my nimbus 1000 as nimble as ever.

And yet, as comfortable as I had become, it did not happen so easily with the rest of the team. In the next half hour, the bludgers had taken out Michael and Bella as well, leaving Elise and I as keepers as well as chasers, forcing us into a defensive rather than offensive. The gap between the Gryffindor and Slytherin scores began to decrease.

"A nice save from Potter there as he grabs the Quaffle and passes it to St Claire, who passes it back to Potter, nicely missing a bludger there, the Slytherin beaters just cannot keep up with the Gryffindor flying technique!"

With a mid-air pirouette Elise spun me the ball just in time for me to slide through a neglected goalpost and over a fierce bludger. That brought up the score to one hundred and sixty rivaling Slytherin's ninety. We had been playing for two hours now- not including the breaks for the Gryffindor injured- and each player was beginning to lose stamina.

The Slytherin team, already haphazard, had grown sloppy. Most of the time they couldn't hold the quaffle for more than a couple of passes. But that didn't put us in any better a position, with so few players, being severely outnumbered and very tired didn't help any.

All our hopes laid in Melissa, who flitted around like the snitch itself, mostly being rained upon by the Slytherin's bludgers. Felix had taken to flying near her, leaving Elise and I exposed.

Elise passed me the quaffle again lazily, tired of the failing Slytherin attempts of Vanity's mediocre team. It had become clear that they had relied on their size to carry them through to the finals, and had put in very little actual practice with their time on the pitch. The Slytherin spectators ceased to cheer, and even the other fans began to lose momentum. They were sitting now, watching the two team's seekers tensely, somewhat hoping that the match would soon be over.

"Another goal for Gryffindor, that makes it one-seventy to ninety, and the Slytherins don't even seem to be trying any more!"

My eyes felt heavy as the match drew out into its third hour and clouds began to gather, threatening rain. I took less care flying, allowing my nimbus 1000 to turn more sharply than I should have, each turn nearly throwing me off. Each time I considered just standing in front of a bludger and waiting to get back into the hospital wing for a nice nap, I looked over a Lily and my spirit was renewed.

Felix was shouting behind me, still formulating plays when most of the other player's brains had shut down, focusing on only the bare, physical essentials. Elise and I attempted to follow as best we could, but for the most part our plays were rendered useless without a full, seven player team.

"And Slytherin score again bringing them up to one hundred points, though that was really more of a fluke, Potter and St Claire are tiring fast, they need Miller to find the snitch soon..."

Just at that moment, Melissa dipped and shot straight up again, gaining the attention of the whole crowd. All thought of the quaffle was lost as Slytherin's seeker took off after her and the race for the snitch began.

The Slytherin seeker was- though hefty- the smallest of the Slytherin players, and therefore faster than the rest. He flew at Melissa's left side, only a fraction behind. But Melissa was nimbler due to her training, and better suited to following the Snitch's flight patterns. The two spiralled up then downwards, over the crowd who had picked up again, chanting louder than before.

They soared up to pierce the clouds and reappeared behind the spot where that had been obscured from sight, darting around the pitch until finally, they fell in a heap on the pitch and the merciful whistle sounded.

We landed and stepped curiously to the players who had crashed to the ground, nobody quite sure whose victory it was. The Slytherin boy stood triumphantly, brandishing the snitch. I felt my heart fall as I noticed Melissa on the floor, brunette hair messily splayed out and eyes closed, knocked unconscious on impact.

"I won!" the boy was yelling as his team lifted him with some effort onto their wearied shoulders, "I caught the snitch!"

"Indeed, ladies and gentlemen, after a long match it seems that the Slytherins have prevailed, winning the Quidditch Cup..." Davey sounded as disappointed as the rest of us, his voice a dull monotone over the speakers as the crowd slumped, giving in to the raucous Slytherin rallying.

The snitch protested, fluttering in his hand. "What's wrong with the bloody thing? I caught it, it should..." the snitch refused to fold in its wings as it should at the end of a match, but continued to try and squirm out of the podgy grip of the Slytherin.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Sir Aeroson said, his eyebrow cocked. He shot red sparks at the Slytherin's hand, who immediately released it. The snitch shot out of his grip and into the air before returning back down and resting in Melissa's out-turned palm, folding its wings contentedly.

"Snitches have flesh memories," Sir Aeroson announced, holding his wand to his neck so that all could hear him, "And this snitch was caught by Gryffindor. Gryffindor wins!"

The crowd erupted and the Slytherin seeker was immediately dropped like a hot coal, left to splutter in disbelief at being caught. In the mean time, the three of us left conscious were flocked by fans, lifted and thrown around triumphantly as Mellisa was lifted to the hospital wing.

I felt brilliant, as if the fatigue had been flooded out of me like a candle did darkness. I felt my throat begin to strain itself as I realised I had been shouting, screaming with victory as a million congratulating hands clasped mine and I was chanted to. Kaise grabbed me somewhere out of the crowd and pulled me into a tight embrace despite the sweat, planting a huge kiss right on my lips for the whole world to see. My best friends clasped my shoulders and Sirius actually jumped onto me, rumpling my hair and yelling over to his relatives.

When finally he dismounted and the crowd disappated, I went to find Felix, who was still on the pitch, watching the Broadmoor Brothers shake hands with the Slytherin beaters.

"That's your own fault, boy," his father was saying, "you and your fairy-flying. That wasn't real Quidditch,"

"On the contrary, Mr Browning," came a Scottish-accented voice from behind him, "that was rather remarkable Quidditch your son just played. Real Quidditch is about knowing your opponent, not about _smashing heads, _as I believe the Falcons say."

The three of us turned to find the owner of the voice, the manager of the Montrose Magpies, Hamish MacFarlan.

"Mr MacFarlan, it's amazing to meet you," Felix extended a hand which Macfarlan warmly whilst his father humphed. "I'm a big fan," Felix continued, and his expression had turned from depressed to hopeful.

"Don't look at me like that, Browning, my team had enough players," he began, at which point Felix slumped again, "what I need is plays."

"What?"

"Knowing your opponent, good plays, always thinking about the game even whilst you're playing, all valuable assets. You're in your final year, am I correct?"

"Yes sir," Felix nodded.

"You've got a job waiting for you with the Magpies when you get out," MacFarlan said, before walking off and away into the distance, leaving Felix beaming.

I felt a warm sense of accomplishment better than that of winning, that of completion, knowing that we had done right by Felix, that he'd be Ok.

_**A/N: I didn't really know how to make this match exciting, plus I'm tired so forgive me if this isn't up to scratch and you are well within your rights to comment something nasty if you want. Also, my spell check has gone on strike so if you noticed bad spelling, it isn't my fault! Sorry this chapter took so long but I had my sister's batmitzvah this weekend, what you gonna do? **_


	41. Love Is A Weakness

The celebration that night was a wild blur of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs of all ages drinking butterbeer and playing games, daring each other with Every Flavoured Beans and Fizzing Whizbees, chocolate frogs leaping to the nearest point of escape, many missing a limb, and quite a lot of drunken kissing. Sirius stayed remarkably sober, probably too mortified by his last drunk experience, kissing the girl he liked and not even remembering it. I, however, was still quite hungover the next day.

Remus had capitalised on his hangover cure, making a few cauldron's worth on the night before the match and selling it to people the morning after. He had made a great profit on it as well, and was excitedly announcing how he was planning on buying some more books.

"That sound truly _fascinating, _Remus," I droned, banging my head on the table in some kind of perverse attempt to alleviate the pain of the headache that Remus' cure had not yet quelled. "You wouldn't be able to find a book on how to get rid of insane Dark Arts teachers, would you?"

Frank Longbottom had returned from the infirmary just in time for the match, and his presence had just reminded me about my other resolve, to get rid of Malignatious.

"It shouldn't be too difficult now!" Peter squeaked.

"He's right," Sirius agreed begrudgingly- he felt it below him to ever agree with Peter- "Frank Longbottom is proof he's snapping." My skin crawled slightly with the memory of Frank's tortured body, but I nodded in agreement.

"All we need is an extra push to make him do something somebody will see." Suddenly, the idea was clear as day to me, as if all the pieces of the puzzle had been hiding in the darker corners of my mind and as Remus' potion took its effect they were brought forward to snap into place.

"I've got it boys, listen to me..."

The next lesson began as any other had. Malignatious swept into the room as authoritative and terrifying as he had ever been, but perhaps even more so now that he looked more dishevelled, maddened.

"In preparation for your summer exams, we will be studying the phenomena of Inferi," normally, nobody would have mentioned that Inferi were not on the syllabus and that the seventh years only learnt about them briefly for their NEWTs, but today was not a normal day.

"We're not supposed to learn about Inferi, Sir," I said innocently whilst his back was turned. He whipped around immediately, eye twitching with built up rage which threatened to undermine the cold, indifferent authority he had spent his time culturing.

"What you are or are not to learn is _my decision, _Mr Potter. You would do well to know your place," the words were spoken through gritted teeth in a voice with little patience that was just _daring _to be tested. The class hushed as they awaited my response, but I was not the next due to speak.

"Sir, whilst you and Jamie here are having this argument, do you mind if I go to the bathroom?" Sirius asked from beside me, already making his way to stand. If Malignatious had been making any effort up until now to keep his cool, it was all proven in vain as he shot a jet of black towards Sirius.

"_Protego!_" I yelled, jumping in front of him and deflecting the spell as Sirius ran. Malignatious let out a baritone laugh that shook the room.

"_You're _the one," he said slowly, playing with his wand casually. "Of _course _you're the one, it could only be a Gryffindor, someone with an overwhelming sense of... _morality_." He said the word as if it were an insult, but it only brought a smile to my lips, which I'm sure infuriated Malignatious further as he flicked his wand again and all the tables scraped against the floor, back to where Spriteworth had originally had them. From my place standing, I was not affected, and now stood in the center of the room in the clearing, facing Malignatious.

"So you think you can beat me, boy? You think you know whatreal power is?" he asked, raising his voice so that the air rang with his egotistic insanity, "then let's prove it! But I must warn you, dark magic is ever so much stronger than a weak little second year."

"Well then let's prove it, _Sir_," I challenged him, assuming the duelling position I had seen illustrated in books in the library that I wasn't supposed to read. Malignatious raised his eyebrows at the gesture, surprised by my knowledge of duelling probably, but them mirrored me and we began to circle, wands at the ready.

With a spell I didn't hear from Malignatious I ducked, sending it flying into one of the onlooking tables. Remus, the mediator of the duel, quickly nullified its effects on the table before the sirling mass of black began to take form.

"You won't be proving anything if you run, Potter," Malignatious chided, raising his wand again. I cursed myself for my weak instincts and readied my own wand.

"_Expelliarmus!_" I yelled, apparently taking Malignatious by surprise so much so that he didn't have time to counter and the wand flew into my hand. I held it for a moment in triumph that was almost shock, but the moment was short-lived. With what looked like a tremendous amout of effort, Malignatious began to stare at the wand, uttering something. I felt the wand quiver in my hand as its master's face began to turn red. It grew searing hot until I dropped it and Malignatious lunged for it, snatching it up and scrambling back to his feet.

Every curse word I knew flashed through my mind. Malignatious could- to some extent- practice wandless magic. Only _particularly _powerful wizards could do magic without their wands, and I had gone and picked a fight with one of them. I couldn't quite keep the scared expression off my face. I had been arrogant with my plan, expecting myself to be equally matched against Malignatious. I had forgotten that I was only a second year, and though me and my friends were certainly advanced and bright, we only had the _potential _to be powerful. It was stupid of me to take on a powerful wizard.

And yet, here I was, facing a man many years my senior made more so by experience, duelling to what I was almost certain was the death. Apprehension gripped my wand tighter and sped up my heart, pushing it into my throat. It sent shivers down my spine and coaxed a cold sweat from my every pore. Apprehension was cruel, and she crept onto my face so that she could be witnessed by all.

"What were you saying about power, Potter?" Malignatious asked, noticing my terror. My face flushed with shame as I looked around the class. The Slytherins' eyes were reverent, but the Gryffindors looked very much like me, scared. Remus was shaking his head slowly, probably blaming himself for my inevitable demise. But if I was going to die, his was not the face I wanted to see.

I caught Lily's eye and she stared at me intently, searching my face, trying to see the logic in my decision to ever challenge Malignatious in the first place. She could understand my arrogance, but she seemed to be refusing to accept it, searching for something _more. _She wanted a reason. Didn't she know she was the reason? She and every other Gryffindor in this room who cared for my safety, they were all to good to deserve the menace this man could be. I was little of a price to pay if it really came down to the safety of my beloved classmates. I was little price to pay if it insured her safety.

As I began to turn back, to face Maligantious again, a look of hurt and confusion and terror flitted across her astonishing features. She didn't understand, I couldn't really expect her to, so I would have to not die so that maybe one day I could explain it to her.

"Are you quite ready, Potter?" Malignatious' cruel voice crept back into my consciousness. I turned back, taking a last look at Lily, "you could just admit you were wrong, you know? And this would all be over, you'd be safe." I shook my head, giving up would ruin the plan, if I gave up, nobody would see the things this man could do, and he would most certainly never be fired.

Accepting my head shake as invitation to recommence, Malignatious shot a spell at me, the one with the hand that reached up from the ground, except this time there were many hands and they were grabbing at my ankles, trying to pull me into the deepness that dwelled in. I repelled them using the same spell, but I had to say it more than once.

"Power is not measured by the things you can conjure up magically." I spat at him as the last hand shrivelled back into its hole. With that, I shot blasting charm at Slytherin desk behind him. Remus made sure the shards from the explosion didn't harm the girl who sat behind it, but Malignatious gained a gash on his wand arm.

"Oh really? What is it measured in, then?" he asked mockingly, and suddenly sent out a stream of fire from his wand.

"_Aguamenti!_" I yelled, but the fire was only held back by my shield of water, not extinguished by it. A snake's head made entirely of flame ducked around the side and hissed at me and I stumbled back. Malignatious conceded somewhat and let the fire go, but I felt it was more so that my death was slower and more torturous than it would be if I were simply burnt to a crisp.

"Is power measured in money, Potter?" he asked, shooting a flock of bats at me, all with glistening jaws and unnaturally large, awaiting fangs. I quickly conjured cages like those me and Spriteworth had for the Skrewts and the fell to the ground, flapping in protest against their confines.

"Is power measured in celebrity?" he asked, raising his voice further as his aim became reckless and a flash of red light flew far wide of me, blocked by Remus from hitting a shrieking Peter.

"DO TELL ME, POTTER, WHAT IS POWER MEASURED IN?" he yelled insanely, storming up and grabbing me by the collar before throwing me back down to the ground on the other side.

"Something you are truly incapable of," I hissed at him, at which point his face went darker than I had ever seen it when he was punishing any other student. I knew that these would be the words that pushed him over the edge, that if nobody stepped in, these would be my final moments. Better make them monumentous.

"Love."

Malignatious threw back his head and laughed to nobody in particular. I was reminded of Bellatrix in the restricted section. "LOVE? LOVE? LOVE IS A WEAKNESS!"

"That's what the weak say."

"Are you calling me weak?" he asked, any hint of laughter gone from his voice as the threat returned. "I am NOT WEAK!" I stared back at him defiantly, feeling my entire body go cold in preparation for when there was no blood pumping around it to keep it warm. Shudders ran frequently down my spine but I ingored them, maintaining my stare. "You want to learn about Inferi, Potter?" he asked finally, clear that this was his grand finale. I said nothing, simply watched as from the ground dust began to rise, which turned to smoke, which turned to the form of un ugly, rotten looking thing. Blackened flesh hung from gaunt bones and hollow eyes. The thing was dead, yet... alive.

I felt extreme fear like I had never felt before as the thing crept towards me, doing as its master bade it, skeletal face grinning at me despite its horrifying exterior. I shuffled backwards and away from it until I hit a table and could go no further. This was it, I knew. I couldn't beat an Inferius. I closed my eyes and waited for death.

What I heard instead was the blasting open of a door and the clanging of a cage, and I re-opened my eyes to see glory. Ted Tonks held a cage which contained the Inferius, whilst Andromeda magically bound Malignatious.

"Hades Malignatious, the act of Necromancy is illegal under the law of the Ministry of Magic and punishable by the dementor's kiss," she began with absolute pleasure, grabbing him roughly at the arm as she grabbed him by the arm and began to walk him towards the door, "You will have a- well I'm supposed to say _fair _trial, but I will make sure that it is anything but. In the meantime you will be sent to Azkaban where I hope you will rot forever." She finished the words cruelly, pushing him through the door and away from us, where he would never harm us again.

"Well done, boys," Ted said with a smile as he pulled the cage with the encaptured Inferius behind him to go and join his wife.

Triumph swelled inside of me and exploded in red sparks that I shot from my wand, a shout ripping from me as I began to cheer wildly and the rest of the class did the same, including many of the Slytherins who had been equally terrified by Malignatious' display.

"You did it, Siri!" I exclaimed as I spotted my best fried waving goodbye to his cousin, "we did it, we did it!" We had done it, we had gotten rid of the teacher from hell, and now Spriteworth could return to me. Everything would be back to the way it should be. I felt a contentedness like I had before after the Quidditch match settle in my stomach as I beamed. Spriteworth was coming back.

**_A/N: This scene has been in my head for a while though I'm not sure I've done it justice. Nonetheless I hated Malignatious and wanted him GONE, and there is of course still the jinx on the post of DADA teacher to think about. I promise I took that into account when Eris went on to teach the second year as well, all will be explained, nonetheless thanks for reading and please review!_**


	42. Justice

The atmosphere in the room was stilled by the sudden entry of McGonagall, who had evidently heard our raucous triumph and entered hurriedly.

"What in Merlin's name is going on in here?" she shrieked, "Where is your professor? And all of your other classmates?" The Slytherins, not wanting to get in to trouble or be further targeted by the Gryffindor triumph, fled from the room and would remain locked in their common room for the rest of the night, only two came to dinner.

"Arrested, Professor!" Sophia cried from the opposite end of the room, her laugh carrying over to even my ears. She was standing next to Lily, who was looking quite dumbstruck, deep red hair rather ruffled.

"_Arrested?_" she repeated, eyes widening as she bit her lip, making a clear attempt not to smile and laugh along with the rest of us. "Well..." she began, stifling a chuckle, "that's no reason to dance on the tables and go wild now is it?" she asked unsurely, making it clear that that was _exactly _the right thing to do in this situation, but she wasn't allowed to say so.

Suddenly, McGonagall straightened as if she had just noticed something, scorch marks on the floor, bats in cages, water everywhere, the eyes of students wandering back to me. Her eyes narrowed as she zeroed in on me and my friends, Sirius and I in particular being congratulated.

"Potter," she began, taking a step towards me, searching my face, "you had something to do with this." She gestured to the chaotic room. I raised my eyebrows in mock innocence.

"To do with what, Professor? I don't understand..."

"Mr Potter, I have been teaching here for a good many years and have met much better liars than _you_, you will accompany me to the headmaster's office at once, Miss Evans, you are in charge!" she called behind her as she grabbed me by the wrist, as an afterthought grabbing Sirius too and dragging us both behind her.

"Professor, this is surely unjustified! You have no evidence..."

"This isn't the Wizengamot, Potter, I do not need _evidence_ to know that you're up to something! _Acid Pops!_" She screamed at the gargoyle that guarded the staircase, who looked almost reluctant to let us through, as if it felt the dwellers of the room deserved privacy.

"Professor Dumbledore!" she called out to the room before looking properly into the room and suddenly going very white. "Aurors? What is going on, sir?" she asked very quietly.

"Minerva, come in it's alright, I see you've brought our new law enforcement with you!" McGonagall cocked an eyebrow at the word 'enforcement', having expected quite the opposite, and looked more confused than ever.

As she stood quite still, obscuring our view from the office, she dropped our wrists, allowing us to walk around her and into the office.

The sight we saw was unexpected. When McGonagall had mentioned Aurors, I had assumed she was talking about Andromeda and Ted, who Sirius had fetched through the Floo network, but the office was filled with them, standing in every space available, wands pointed at their captive who had gained a remarkable number of bruises since our last encounter. He lifted his head painfully to see who had entered, groaned, and let his head drop again.

"Do come in, Minerva, boys, the Aurors would like to thank you for the work you've done." Sirius and I nodded at each other, smug smiles plastered on our faces, "Oh, and also, fifty points from Gryffindor. Each."

The smiles were gone instantaneously, replaced with shock. "Professor!" we protested in unison. He held up his hand to interrupt.

"I'm sorry boys, but I simply cannot allow this kind of behaviour. The next time you get a teacher arrested, I will be obliged to write to your parents." We nodded, understanding that as the headmaster that he couldn't exactly let us off.

Dumbledore turned away from us then and back to the rest of the Aurors that filled the room. They all straightened under the eye of one of the most powerful wizards they would ever encounter, a sort of respect they had for him knowing that should they ever meet him in the kind of situations they found themselves in with Malignatious, they were unlikely to prevail.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am quite done questioning him and am pleased with the results, you may take him to wherever you see fit now, and be reassured in the fact that all of you put a bad man away from good people today. Thank you," he ended his speech with a small bow and gestured to the door. They all grunted thank you's on their way out as they pulled along Malignatious out of our lives.

"Mr Black, you may go out and see Andromeda for a bit if you like, Mr Potter I would like a word, hm?" Sirius clapped my arm for a moment, wishing me good luck, before bounding out and back to follow Andromeda and Ted, to catch up with his favourite cousin.

"And thank you, Minerva, I think these two are very much dealt with," he assured her. McGonagall sighed.

"Just as well, I left a fourth year class to bring them here, I'll see you later, Professor," she followed Sirius out so that only Dumbledore and I were left in the office. I stood backed up against the shelf, there having been no space before seeing as there were so many Aurors around, but now he beckoned me forward.

"I imagine, James, that your removal of Professor Malignatious was not solely selfless, was it?" he looked over knowingly at me over half-moon glasses.

"It was somewhat, Sir," I began, trying to justify my behaviour, "He was awful to all of us, Frank Longbottom will never be the same, and Sirius- poor Sirius- his parents would have had Malignatious do things…"

"_Mr_ or _Professor_ please, James, we must still show our elders respect, death eaters or no."

"_Mr _Malignatious then, Sir, though I don't see why..."

"Etiquette is failing James, it is quite a sad thing. I suppose it's not important now though. Would I be wrong in assuming, then, that all of this had nothing to do with the want of a different Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher? Someone you might have been missing?" I would have been fooling myself if I hadn't thought that Dumbledore would immediately recognize my attempt to get Spriteworth back, so I didn't contest what I knew was right.

"Yes, Sir," I admitted, but Dumbledore only shrugged.

"Eris' departure was of his own choosing, James. I cannot _make _a teacher stay if they do not wish to."

"I know, Sir," I sighed.

"I would, however, like to tell you that Eris has returned from his travels and has asked me to give you this," he pulled out a letter, addressed to me in rounded handwriting. Eris' handwriting. I smiled as I held it, thanking the headmaster. "That is all, James. Thank you very much for your work today."

I nodded a 'you're welcome' and left quickly, just in time to catch Sirius hugging his cousin goodbye in front of the gargoyle. I quickly shoved the letter in the pocket of my robes, determining that my friends probably shouldn't know about my persisting friendship with my former teacher.

"Hey Dromeda, Ted, you off then?" I asked, throwing a casual arm over Sirius' shoulder and leaning on him playfully until he was forced to stumble, pushing me away from him with a mock-glare.

"Hey James, yeah we've gotta go, Tonks is waiting at home," Ted said with a smile. Andromeda elbowed him.

"We are not calling our daughter that, Ted, as much as it flatters you. We left _Nymphadora _at home with the babysitter, we'd better be getting back to her now. It was good of you to call us, Siri, I'll see you this summer." She gave Sirius another small hug and then raised her wand. "_Accio broom!_" and she was on her broom with Ted, flying back home.

Sirius watched them for a while, then he turned his back and we began to walk.

"I'm sorry I took so long," Sirius said after a few paces in silence, "Filch was guarding the fireplace, and it's the only one in the castle I could connect to the Floo network, but you were alright! I heard from everybody that he was practically trembling by the time we arrived!"

"Is that what they told you?" I asked unenthusiastically, amazed by the way people had percieved the fight. "If I'm being honest with you Siri, that's not how it was going at all. He would have killed me if you hadn't shown up. And he would have enjoyed doing it."

"Surely not..." Sirius trailed off, uncomfortable with how much had relied on his half of the plan. But he saw my sincerity clearly, as it was rare I would ever admit that I was scared. He blew out a shaky breath, "It's all over now anyway, right?"

"Right." I agreed, and we recommenced walking in silence.

The silence was short-lived, however, when I was approached by Lily Evans after Defence Against the Dark Arts finished, covered by a very flustered Arithmancy teacher whose name I didn't know.

"James Potter," she began darkly, stalking towards me. Sirius, sensing something about to happen, immediately backed away; _every man for himself._

"Why Evans, how lovely to see you!" I began with a lax smile, "did you enjoy my little display?"

"_Little display?_" Lily spluttered angrily, "what, you mean when you almost _killed _yourself just now? No, James, I did not enjoy it," her nostrils flared and her hair began to pale against the angry scarlet of her cheeks. Her beautiful green eyes flashed.

"Calm down Evans, it did the trick didn't it?" I asked, smiling, reaching a hand forward to stroke a tuft of hair which had fallen in her face. She stepped determinedly backwards, avoiding my reach, and flushed even further. Goodness she was gorgeous when she was angry. Part of me loved pissing her off just to see her like this.

"It wasn't just a trick! You could have _died! _And you _knew _it!" I cocked my head to the side slightly, a smile twitching at the corner of my mouth. She clearly found it disconcerting whilst she was trying to scold me, and frowned deeply. "What?"

"You care."

"I do not care!" she snapped, almost too quickly. I remained unfazed as I shook my head.

"Yes you do. You care whether I live or die, don't you?"

She paused for a moment, unsure how to answer the question. "I care whether or not I see a boy my age _killed _in front of me! I care that that may scar me for the rest of my life! But as to whether or not I actually _care? _No, James Potter, I think you are a thoroughly detestable pig and would much rather if _any _idiot were to commit suicide, it would be you." She smiled self-staisfiedly, in that way that she was aware that what she had said was harsh, but assured by the fact it was morally justifiable.

"You care." I said simply, to which she let out a loud, exasperated groan, then gave up and stormed off to give someone else hell.

I smiled as I walked back to the common room. Finally, some kind of progress.

When I reached it, I was greeeted with a joyus and victorious reception from Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs alike, all gathered to join in the celebration at the departing of everyone's most hated teacher. I was pulled into the middle by many hands and often congratulated, various chocolates and sweets thrust into my hands as trophies.

The letter from Spriteworth burned in my pocket with anticipation to read it, but I knew that there would be no getting away tonight, I would have to read it in the morning.

_**A/N: Well, someone asked for some more Lily and James so here it is, though I can't write much more than them being angry at the moment really, I'm still at the part where they hate each other. I'll be wrapping up the year in the next chapter, as I noticed that my first year was nine chapters and my second thirty something. Next year should be shorter. Thanks for reading all and if you enjoyed or hated, do review!**_


	43. Endings and Elation

_Dear James, _it began.

I was sitting on my bed during lunch, holding the crumpled letter from Spriteworth in my hands. I was hesitant to read it, and a feeling of disappointment lingered in the room, though I couldn't be sure why. I scanned the letter without reading it. It was short, only half a foot of parchment at most, but the handwriting was messy, like no time or effort had been put into it at all. It made me wonder why I wasn't worth the effort.

_Dear James, _I started again,

_I'm sorry. _

Why was he sorry? The dissapointment crept nearer. I pondered the next two words, trying to decipher a meaning. Of course, it would have been simpler to just read the next line, but I was reluctant to, I didn't want the disappointment to lunge on me as it was so itching to.

_I'm sorry. I know you expected more from me, but I cannot return to Hogwarts._

There it was, flooding me. He wasn't coming back. He would not be my teacher, he didn't want to be.

_Things have happened of late, and I feel it would be wrong of me to return. I have sent you a present, a new Divination teacher. You will have her next year. Do not be fooled by exteriors, James, she is the great-great-granddaughter of a very remarkable woman, and the sister of one who was very dear to me. Think of me when you're with her, James, and think of the importance that woman holds. _

_I will be taking up lodgings in Hogsmeade, above the Three Broomsticks. Next year you will be allowed frequent visits into Hogsmeade, and I hope you will find me there. _

_I miss you, James. You are a truly exceptional, witty and intelligent young man, and I consider you a dear friend._

I threw the letter down and stopped reading. If he considered me a true friend, he wouldn't have left. If he considered me a true friend, he would have come back. If he considered me a true friend, he would have said all this to my face.

I had the oddest inclination to cry. I had, after all, done all I could to bring back Spriteworth. I had made myself ill with Dark Magic and even risked death against it, yet it was all to no avail. He didn't care about me, I thought bitterly.

_Or maybe you're being selfish, _a small voice inside of me chided, _he has his reasons, and he is still making the effort to be friends with you. You're acting like a child._

I ignored the voice indignantly, allowing it to be overcome by my anger. Maybe I could have been more understanding when I'd thought he was coming back, but now I had the urge to rip up the letter and throw it into the fire, rid myself of all that was him. I punched the pillow on my bed before flopping down face-first into it. I swallowed the tears that threatened to prick at my eyes. I was too old to cry, especially over something so trivial.

So, to take my mind off it, I did something extremeley out of the ordinary. I stood and walked from my room, passing my friends in the common room but not giving them any explanation as to where I was going.

After all, who would have believed me if I told them I was going to the library?

I strolled into the library casually, much to the surprise of Madam Pince who obviously had expected Remus or Peter or even _Sirius_ rather than me. I shot her a smile and a wink and she rolled her eyes and went back to alpabetising the Wizarding Law section.

I started with Herbology, picking up a few second year volumes and sitting down at desk with them open, parchment and quill in hand, inwell at the ready. I began taking notes, flicking through pages to find anything that had to do with the topics we had been learning this year. Many of the books were sadly out of date, but my textbook had been seriously defaced by the doodlings of Sirius and me so I had little choice.

Time stretched by with the waning of candles as I finished up my notes for Charms and moved on finally to Transfiguration, the only subject I had left to study. I checked my watch to find the minute hand teetering dangerously close to the end of dinner and decided that I had probably had enough. I got up, replaced the books I had taken and went to join my friends.

The Great Hall was void of all fifth and seventh year students preparing for their OWLs and NEWTs, who I had avoided in the common room and had been surrounded by in the library. Remus, only a second year, was among them. He tutored Peter whilst some of the fifth years asked Sirius if they could practice spells on him, quite aware of Sirius' advanced magical abilities. This meant that they weren't at the table either. So, when I spotted Kaise and her group of friends, I reluctantly sat down with them.

"Where you been, James?" asked Kaise as I sat down next to her with a squeeze on her shoulder. I flashed a smile at her friends who all giggled.

"Studying." I answered flatly, which the girls all found incredibly funny. I was too busy already stuffing a sausage down my throat to inform them that I wasn't joking.

"I heard there are no Defence exams this year after the whole Malignatious debarcle!" Kaise exclaimed brightly. Great, an hour and a half's notes down the drain.

"You were so brave about that, James, was it scary?" asked one of the girls. I grunted through a mouthful of bread and stared down at my plate. It was bloody terrifying.

"I don't think James wants to talk about it," said Kaise, coming to my rescue. I dropped my hand under the table so I could give her hand a thankful clutch. She returned it with an indeterminable smile and I felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. She was so conscientious, so understanding and yet to brave, foolhardy and witty.

I walked back with Kaise to the dorms afterwards, making our way through the mass of studying OWL and NEWT students in the common room to my dorm. She scoffed at their hard work, remarking proudly that she had done absolutely no revision whatsoever, and had very little regard for whether or not she passed any of her exams this year.

I chuckled and pretended the same, quickly throwing my satchel with all my work in it to the side.

"Were you scared?" she asked suddenly, and I furrowed my eyebrows at her, pretending to have no idea what she was on about. "When you fought him, _were _you scared?"

I nodded silently, but didn't say a word. I wondered if Kaise could see in my eyes the Inferius I still pictured, the stench of its rotting flesh ravaging my nostrils whilst the sight of it rallied my heart rate up to something certainly unhealthy.

"Oh," she said in a quiet voice, but the word was almost immediately swallowed by a kiss. I was holding her face to mine so roughly it was a wonder she didn't yelp. Instead, she allowed me to disintigrate all my anger as I held her, feeling all the emotions in me slink away and back into the darkness.

She parted her lips ever so slightly, consent for me to carry on, and I began to kiss her softly, rather than just pressing my lips to hers. We moved together, lips engaged in a kind of dance as the world kept still, and time watched with a finger to her mouth as a pair of adolescents shared something _real _as most never did. When she removed her finger, Kaise took her lips from mine and suddenly life returned to the world. She let out a cool sigh of mint and cherry lip balm and sat up.

"Have a good night, James, I'm going to bed," she said with a smile and a hyperbolic yawn.

When I laid back in bed, I heard a rustling and with a sigh of exasperation remembered the letter. I picked it up, in a better mood now, and read the final few lines.

_I miss you, James. You are a truly exceptional, witty and intelligent young man, and I consider you a dear friend. A friend told me you are destined for greatness, I would like to be there to see her proven right._

_Be well, James, and I hope to see you soon,_

_Eris._

I no longer felt disappointed or angry, but I did feel a hollow now where Spriteworth used to be. It was warmed a bit at the edges where his compliments lingered, but for the most part it was cold and dull. I resolved that I would visit the Three Broomstick's every chance I got so I could keep it warm.

Exams started with much less fuss than last year. Last year, everybody freaked out about not knowing their stuff, and right before each exam a shaky 'good luck' would be shared throughout the class, but this year we just sort of got on with it as only one could.

History of Magic was a failure before it even began. Professor Binns was probably the most uninspiring man- ghost- to ever had walked the planet, and therefore unable to teach for the life-death-of him. In the last few minutes my hand cramped up so much from writing so much waffle that I had to discreetly pull out my wand and try a nonverbal un-cramping charm. It didn't work as well though considering it was nonverbal and I was no good at Charms.

The next exam, Transfiguration, went brilliantly, as did Herbology. Charms, however, was a precedented failure. I didn't care though as long as it was over. The whole week Peter had been squeaking about his nerves whilst Remus lectured all of us that we really should be revising more. As he did so, the fifth years were telling _him _that we should enjoy these few years _not _revising, as when the OWLs hit we'd have no choice. The common room was a mess of stress ridden students, some wailing in corners about exams gone wrong, some muttering things to themselves, some gone completely mute. It looked more like a mental asylum than a common room.

When the week passed, time suddenly picked up its pace until it was no longer school time and the summer was upon us.

"I'm going back to Scotland for the summer," Peter said, sounding much less excited than last year. Evidently his encounter with the Loch Ness Monster had left him quite scarred. He still refused to talk about it a year on.

"At least you're not staying in London." Remus groaned, "It's always dreadfully boring without you guys."

I almost felt bad telling them about my exciting trip to Africa with the Ministry, but I did anyway, and the news of at least one of us having an exciting summer seemed to brighten everyone else's day.

"You're coming, right Siri?" I asked. I had assumed that since he came last summer, there was no need to really _ask _him again. Which was why I was disappointed when he sombrely shook his head.

"Can't mate, my parents..." his eyes darkened as he thought about his parents. I knew that he had recieved a letter from them. It had come in a dark green envelope a couple of weeks ago at breakfast, and I had ignored it then, but when Sirius had come out our dorm after reading it his cheeks held definite evidence of streaked tears. I didn't press him on the matter.

"We'll miss you," I assured him, and the talk of holidays quite immediately ceased and just in time as Professor Dumbledore stood to make his final announcement of the year.

"I understand," he began as the students hushed, "that this year has been very challenging for all of you. You have faced fierce exams, even fiercer teachers and some quite rough Quidditch matches," the entire school shot reprimanding looks at the Slytherin table, "and yet, we have all survived through it and I _hope, _have learnt a little something. I have witnessed great valour this year, along with more than a little foolhardiness," he winked over at Sirius and I, "and I am extremely proud of all of you,

"A final word of warning, before you leave on travels to farr off lands, however. Excercise caution this summer, all of you. The Wizarding World is not as safe as it used to be, or as it deludes itself into believing it still is."

The lull was filled with scandalous whispers about Voldemort, but was silenced again by the clinking of cutlery against glasses as the teacher's table called for attention.

"And now, for the House Cup!" Dumbledore announced, "In fourth place, with a reasonable 93 points, Hufflepuff!" There were a few coaxing cheers from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, but the Hufflepuff table just clapped unenthusiastically in sour defeat, "In third, with 110 points, Ravenclaw," Ravenclaw cheered a little louder, but not much.

A stillness fell on the Great Hall as the Gryffindors and Slytherins prayed that their names wouldn't be called. I looked over at Sirius. In the last few weeks alone, we had lost the house 100 points. It was unlikely that we would beat Slytherins now...

"In second place, with 198 points, Slytherin!"

A cheer erupted all around us as Professor Dumbledore tried to shout over the elation of the Gryffindor table, "and in first place, due to its incredible Quidditch skill, Gryffindor with 304 points! GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

And as I cheered and laughed with my friends, stood on benches and whooped, jumping up and down and clapping each other on the shoulders, I felt the oddest sensation of nostalgia being sent to me from myself in many years time. I captured the moment in my memory as one I always hoped to remember, one I would constantly try to share in words but never quite encapsulate with something so tangible.

That moment, with my friends, and Lily and Hogwarts, that moment was home.

_**A/N: And so ends the second year, which was considerably longer than the first. I hope you all enjoyed this year and all the mishaps and mayhem that went along with it. It's harder to write these younger years, as when thirteen year olds **_**think **_**they understand something, it's often very different to when they're sixteen and they **_**do. **_**Nonetheless, I hope if it's been to mature in places you can forgive me.**_

_**I'd just like to thank all you readers and reviewers who stirred me on these many chapters, you really are the reason I write, and I hope the reason I continue to. **_

_**As long as I have keys to type on and a story in my heart, as long as there is Harry I will write, and as long as you care to find it, wherever you choose to look, Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.**_

_**See you for third year soon!**_


	44. A Package For Mr James Potter

"Mornin'," I grunted as I flopped myself down at the breakfast table.

"Good morning, sweetheart," my mum replied, planting a kiss on my cheek which I immediately wiped off.

"Shouldn't do that, mate, some kids kill to get a kiss from their mother." I started at the sound and whipped around to see a form standing in my kitchen, his face cast over with shadow so it was unrecognizable.

"Oh yeah, you got a package last night," my mum said casually, and the figure stepped finally out of the shade so the light fell on him. I wiped sleep out of my eyes and blinked but he didn't disappear.

"Siri!" I exclaimed, pulling him into a massive bear hug.

"Hey Jamie," he choked, pulling himself away from my embrace. I studied him all over and frowned. His face was covered in small scratches and through his ragged t-shirt I saw bruises, some yellowing, some still fresh. He followed my gaze down to his chest and tried to pull the strips of his torn shirt together and hide them from me.

"I... uh... I ran out of dittany," he confessed. That, however, was not the question my gaze was trying to ask him. He sighed and shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it. I wanted to persist, but he looked too worn out to be coaxed into telling me.

"Whatever," I said, ignoring my every instinct to ask, "let's get you some clothes and a shower, then you can come down and eat," I pointed up to the stairs and he nodded. He had stayed here last summer and knew where everything was.

I poured myself a glass of orange juice and downed it in one gulp, kissing my teeth realising that it was much too sour.

"What time did Sirius arrive?" I asked my mum, who was busy instructing some wooden crockery on how to make pancakes.

"He came some time last night, poor thing didn't want to wake you, slept on the couch, refused to let me give him any clothes." She tutted, "What kind of parents allow a boy to get that beaten up?" she asked. Sirius and I had always avoided the subject of his parents around mine. I think he felt ashamed of them.

"Sirius doesn't really have _parents,_" I explained, and when she gave me a questioning raised eyebrow I shook my head to explain to her that I couldn't really say any more without Sirius' permission, which he certainly would not have given to me. I simply took one of the plates of pancakes, sat down and began to eat.

By the time I had finished my second, Sirius was descending the stairs, his hair sopping wet and dripping onto a long sleeved grey v-neck and some old tracksuit bottoms he'd found in my drawers. The clothes hung languidly off him in a way they only could off Sirius. I watched as he looked at the pancakes set out for him, eyes wide, ravenous.

"Eat," I implored him, pushing the food even closer to him and pouring him some orange juice. He complied, happily digging in. He looked better now that he was clean, a little less haggard, his scratches less caked in brown but now a raw red, waiting to heal. There was no change to his bruises, however, and I spotted more, smaller ones, as he rolled up his sleeves. He noticed them too and rolled them back down again.

"The food's great, Mrs Potter," he said, beaming at my mum. She smiled at him and stacked up his plate- still half full- with more pancakes. He didn't complain.

"Where's Dad?" I suddenly realising that I hadn't seen him all morning.

"He had to catch a Portkey back to Africa, the Ministry got into a little bit of a pickle out there when we left. He said he'd meet us in Diagon Alley later and he'd meet us after he'd drawn some money from Gringotts so we could get your books. And some new robes, by the looks of things you'll have grown out of your old ones!"

The summer had been kind to me, and I had indeed grown quite a bit since last year, even as I sat down in my pyjamas I could feel the cuffs of the trousers riding high up past my ankle.

"I'll get ready to go then," I said, standing and putting my plate next to the sink where a charmed sponge got to work washing and an enchanted tea-towel waited patiently to dry it. "Coming, Siri?" He nodded, polishing off his last bite and placing his plate near mine, following me upstairs.

My room was rather large, one wall lined with cupboards and the others covered in Quidditch posters and Gryffindor banners, quite like Sirius'. The bathroom was right next door, and I quickly grabbed some clothes to go take a quick shower whilst Sirius flung himself on my bed- ignoring the creaks of proestation- and picked up today's _Prophet _which lay on my bedside table.

When I re-emerged, clean and dressed, Sirius had thrown the Prophet down by his side and was pinching the space between his eyes. "The Malignatious trial's over," he remarked, "they're sending him to Azkaban." He sounded disappointed. I knew why.

"It's not the kiss, is it?" Sirius shook his head.

"My parents testified for him, as did all the other pureblood families. With so much power on his side, there was no way any judge could sentence the kiss and live to see it done. I felt my heart drop. It had been expected, of course, but I had still held some hope that _true _justice would prevail, that Malignatious would have been left completely incapable of ever harming another human being again.

"What else is in there?" I asked, gesturing to the _Prophet _that laid discarded by his side.

"The usual," he sighed, "death tolls mostly." His morbid tone tainted the air with darkness. Dumbledore's warning about the summer to come had proven important. Voldemort had grown powerful recently, and was beginning to use that power. He had killed in the hundreds already, all muggle-borns, all in the pure-blood name. He was attracting much media attention, though few who'd ever seen him talked to the press, fewer still had been left alive.

"Anyone we know?" I asked, scanning down the list. Of course, there was one name I was looking for, one name I searched for every day and hoped to never find. I felt my heart speed up as I scanned the list and blew out thankfully. Lily was safe, at least.

"I think this is Kramer's uncle," I noted, seeing a familiar name. Though I hated Gabriel Kramer with every fibre of my being, I felt a sudden, immense sorrow for his loss. After all, nobody should be killed for the blood that runs through their veins, for recieving the gift of magic when one's parents haven't. Sirius grunted a lukwarm condolence and the room fell silent again.

"Why are you here, Siri?" I finally asked, breaking the stillness. He didn't answer for a while, and then he sucked in a deep, audible breath.

"I don't think Voldemort's killing alone. I think his followers, his _Death Eaters, _are doing it for him,"

"How do you know this?" I asked.

"Because they were using me as... target practice," he smiled ironically, but I didn't see the joke. I felt a sudden urge to strip him to his boxers and check every inch of his body, analyse the damage, see what he was hiding from me, order him to never go back there. Not that he ever listened to me, so I stayed very still and tried to be sympathetic without being patronising.

"That sucks."

He nodded. "I didn't want to stay there. I would hear names at night and read them in the paper the next morning. It was horrible, James. It's all because of the bloody trace that I couldn't help them or I'd be sharing a cell with Malignatious. There's nobody I can tell, Dromeda and Ted said they're dealing with it in their letters, but I don't think they know what force they're reckoning with."

"Dromeda knows, she is part of your family,"

"Maybe, but she doesn't realise how big this has gotten, we had the Malfoy's _and _the Crabbe's _and _the Goyle's _and _the Flints over yesterday. I caught one look at Abraxas Malfoy and packed my bags and got the hell out of there."

The conversation made me feel increasingly uncomfortable. I didn't like thinking about reality all that much. I preferred to think about holiday homework I hadn't yet finished and watching muggle TV shows and wondering if my dad would make it to the Quidditch World Cup this year or if he'd be pulled away by work like he was this morning.

"Never mind, we'll be in Hogwarts soon enough and you'll be safe. We can talk to Dumbledore, see if there's anything he can do." Sirius nodded, unconvinced, but let the matter drop when my mother called us down.

"James! Sirius! It's time to go!"

"Coming!" I called back, and we scrambled off the bed and down the stairs, directly into the fireplace. With a handful of Floo Powder each, we made out way to Diagon Alley.

We arrived swiftly, and stepped out of the fireplace onto the busy streets of the British Wizarding World's most busy area. It was flooded with Hogwarts students doind the school shopping, and there were definite swells of the crowd around Quality Quidditch Supplies and Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

We met my dad outside Gringotts, where he held out a pouch of coins to me. Sirius pulled out a key from goodness-knows-where and disappeared inside whilst I thanked him, and returned with his own pouch. I gave him a questioning look, it was unlikely that his parents would let him into the family vault given how little they trusted him.

"I have my own vault, put a little money into it whenever I can, when my mother sends me out for gorceries instead of Kreacher, things like that." I nodded, knowing full well that not all of that money was just _handed _to him completely innocently.

With coinpurses in hand, we made our way over to Flourish and Blotts. We were already inside when I realised I didn't have my list with me, and Sirius hadn't brought anything except his key with him, so we were left quite stuck. I decided to seek out another third year somewhere amongst the crowd who'd be able to help.

It didn't take long, I could spot the red hair a mile away, and slowly I made my way through the crowd towards her. Lily Evans was alone, as far as I could tell, and I wondered momentarily where her greasy-haired friend was. I caught her on the elbow and she turned, a smile on her face that faded one she realised it wasn't a friend reaching out for her.

"What do you want, Potter?" she asked, sounding exasperated already. I gestured to the list written in green ink in her hand and she rolled her eye. "Forgot your list?"

"Kind of," I admitted, giving her a bashful look. She seemed taken aback by my lack of use of sarcasm or innuendo, but she warmed to it.

"You two can borrow it, you know, if you want," she said with a shy smile.

"That'd be great, thanks," I said and Sirius thanked her from behind me. She handed me the list and my eyes widened. She had the book lists for all her subjects plus _four _electives! We only had to take two, and Sirius and I took the bare minimum, the two doss subjects, Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. Both book lists were on Lily's letter, and we soon went through and stocked up on everything.

"I'm serious, I don't think it's good for your health," I insisted as we waited in line to pay, "That many subjects are going to give you a stroke." Lily giggled from behind a large pile of books. She elbowed me, not having a hand free to slap me properly.

"Don't make me laugh, I'll drop them!"

"Serves you right for taking so many subjects," I shot back and she laughed again, elbowing me and nearly toppling the books. I caught them for her and decided to take them from her incapable hands. She grappled for them for a while, but more out of politeness, then conceded, allowing me to put them onto the counter for her whilst she drew out her purse to pay and put them away in an enchanted shopping bag with unlimited space.

"Thanks, James, do you need my list for anything else?"

"No, I've got it all stored up here," I tapped my head with two fingers. She smiled and shrugged.

"Ok then, if you think so. I'll see you in school!"

"See you in school," I replied and then, as an afterthought, "Hey, Evans?"

She turned around at the mention of my nickname for her, "Go out with me?" she rolled her eyes, chuckled, and then disappeared into the crowd.

Sirius cocked an eyebrow as if to say, _dude, you've got a girlfriend, _but I raised my hand to plead my innocence and he just rolled his eyes. We finished up the rest of our shopping quickly and ate lunch at Fortescue's before going home and packing, ready for school tomorrow.

_**A/N: We're back! I have had some demands for James and Lily but we aren't there yet, James can still have another girlfriend until then, and then of course a string of them. Patience, my friends, we're getting there.**_


	45. Third Time's The Charm

We woke up late the next morning to glaring light and my very flustered mother.

"Wake up! The two of you! We'll be late at this rate! Are you packed? Sirius, what are you doing on the floor?" Sirius and I had shared the bed, but it seemed that at some point during the night the sleeping arrangement had grown distasteful to me and I had shoved him off of it and onto the floor where he now lay spread-eagled. He jerked awake and jumped up immediately. His face quickly sombered.

"I'm afraid, Mrs Potter, that your son is a menace," he said seriously, and she tutted with him before the two broke into a smile.

"I am not!" I protested, grabbing my clothes out of my cupboard and quickly changing in the bathroom, brushing my teeth quickly and flashing myself a smile in the mirror.

In under ten minutes, Sirius and I were dressed and ready, loading our trunks into a cab. Mum didn't like taking the Portkey set up for Hogwarts students especially near such a muggle-concentrated area. My dad had disappeared again this morning, but I had been assured that he would be there at Platform 9 and 3/4s to say goodbye.

The journey to King's Cross was a short, bleary eyed affair, and Sirius and I were much too groggy to complain about the distance from my house to the station and how much quicker it would have been to take a more magical form of transportation. We just watched a scenery rolled by and listened with deafened ears as my mum chatted harmlessly with the taxi driver, explaining how we were going up to boarding school in Scotland.

We were not the only Hogwarts students to drive up to King's Cross in a car, however. As luck would have it, sitting in a blue Ford Mondeo behind us was Lily Evans and her family. As it seemed, the sour faced girl who she was with last year- her sister- had not come to say goodbye.

I watched from the rear-view mirror as Lily's father, a portly gentleman with thinning hair in an ill fitted brown suit, struggled with her trunk whilst her mother, with the same red hair as Lily's pulled back into a neat bun, took her hand and began to walk her into the station. Neither of them had Lily's wonderous green eyes, and I wondered where she'd gotten them from. Maybe she was just special. She always said it was a wonder you ever inherited those eyes, Harry, when nobody knows where they came from.

As I watched Lily disappear into the station, I was suddenly in quite a hurry to be out of the cab already and follow her. I sprung with new found energy from the car and grabbed my trunk, then Sirius', hauling them out with albeit quite a bit of effort. My mum took infuriatingly long to pay the taxi driver, sorting her muggle money from her wizarding coins, but as I tapped my foot impatiently behind her she soon hurried up.

"Goodness, James, somebody's excited to get to school!" she remarked with surprise, turning on her heel and walking towards the doors, finally.

"I don't think it's just school James is excited about..." I elbowed Sirius very hard, causing him to drop his trunk and then pick it back up quickly, frowning. He quickly spotted Remus in the crowd of adolescents and waved him over, so I had no more chances to physically abuse him.

"Hey Remus," He greeted him with a clap on the back before grabbing his heavy trunk with two hands again. I gave Remus a nod and a smile, which he returned, in greeting. "How was your summer?"

"Good," Remus admitted, "boring without you two getting me into trouble." Although he had probably hoped we wouldn't notice, Remus had a new scar that ran the length of his cheek. I hadn't noticed it at first, but as he moved his face the harsh light of the station caught the silvery line. I frowned at it. He needed us to become animagi, he needed something to distract him from the self-harming nature of his wolf-like self. I nudged Sirius, who glanced at Remus to see what I had just seen. He shook his head.

"What is it?" Remus asked, noticing the action. For the sake of his dignity, Sirius decided not to tell him.

"We need you help, _Professor Lupin,_" he began and Remus rolled his eyes. Whenever we called him Professor, it was because we needed help with something academic. To be more specific, it meant we hadn't done our homework. This was indeed the case for both of us, who had done most of it, but left out the particularly tedious essays.

"You two do realise you had _the whole summer_ to do this, right?" he asked, and we gave identical shrugs. Remus sighed. We had a whole train ride to kill, and what else did we have to do?

With a quick glance around, I sped through the column between platform nine and ten and soon found myself faced with the Hogwarts Express. It was flocked with students waving goodbye to parents and loved ones and hello to friends, but I soon noticed that it was quite empty for quarter to eleven. Usually at this time it was completely full, but now it seemed there were less students leaning out of windows or clambering on with their trunks. It wasn't empty by any means, it just wasn't as full as it was last year.

I gave my mum a peck on the cheek to say goodbye, and hugged my dad as he materialised through the wall of the platform, and then followed Remus and Sirius, who were already on the train and looking for a compartment.

I was too late for Lily, she had already found her place next to that slimy best friend of hers one compartment over, so I carried on walking and sat down with Remus and Sirius. It wasn't long before Peter's head popped into the carriage, quickly followed by the rest of him as he came to sit down, lugging his trunk behind him and swinging it up with the rest. He hadn't changed at all during the summer, whilst us three were taller and better built, he was still a podgy little thing.

"_Professor Lupin,_" he began, and it was immediately clear that the only person who'd done their homework was Remus. He opened his mouth to lecture us, but was interrupted by the sound of the compartment door sliding open again. Kaise stood in the doorway and I quickly ushered her in, giving her a quick kiss, ignoring immature 'ooh's.

She had cut her hair, and it now fell in a short bob, framing her face. She had also grown slightly, and there was a definite swell beneath her collar where there hadn't been one last year. I looked quickly away before she noticed and ruffled her hair.

"This is new," I remarked, and she giggled and batted my hand away.

"Yes, it is. But that's not why I'm here, _Professor Lupin._"

"SERIOUSLY?" Remus yelled, exasperated yet still in good humour. Kaise flashed him a wicked smile and pulled out a crumpled scroll of parchment and a Ready-Inked quill. Remus spent all of five seconds protesting and explaining that one day we'd all have to take exams and we wouldn't know how to do any of them considering Remus did all our work for us whilst Kaise waited expectantly, pen poised, and then sighed. "What's the title?" he asked finally.

"_The Many Uses of Mandrakes,_" she said, and Remus began to dictate well structured paragraphs on Mandrake history and how its uses were found. The train was already moving by the time he was finished.

"Anything else?" he asked, and Kaise shook her head, rolling the parchment back up as the rest of us pulled out our own scrolls and quills.

"Thanks Remus!" she called behind her as she bounded off and Remus gave her a two fingered salute before turning back to the rest of us and going through our potions essay. Outside the window landscapes rolled from green to grey as the sun began its descent, passing the moon graciously as she began to take his place. With all essays finished and now changed into robes, the train pulled to a stop in Hogsmeade station.

We pulled our trunks out and dumped them with the rest of the luggage before clambering into an air-drawn carriage. The four of us sat in silence from then on, watching the dark forms of trees loom up before us and then fall behind, waiting for that telltale gleam off in the distance, the promise of Hogwarts.

Once inside we went straight to the Great Hall, where we would sit with rumbling stomachs until the first years were ushered in and the Sorting began. I was once again faced with the boredom of Sorting. The prefects would glare at anybody who spoke, so my eyes just wandered around the room, settling finally on Lily, who watched with a smile as a small girl with wild blonde hair was sorted into Ravenclaw, where she quickly ran to join a group of newfound friends.

The more I watched her, the more I began to notice something. Her lips fluttered right before the Sorting Hat announced its decision. I focused on the minute movements of her lips. _Hufflepuff. _

At that very moment, a shy looking boy with tufty, mousy brown hair was proclaimed a Hufflepuff and scurried off to join his new housemates. I watched again, as Lily monitored the action of the next child called up. _Slytherin,_ she muttered as the dark haired boy sat down and was almost immediately sent over to the Slytherin table.

Lily was guessing which houses they'd be in.

For the last few students, I joined in Lily's game. I began to guess along with her, feeling a well of triumph when I got one right and she didn't, and a burst of admiration when she guessed a particularly hard one or a near-hatstall right. The time flew as we played, Lily unaware of her competition, and soon the sorting was over and after a short, inspirational welcome from Dumbledore, food appeared.

Immediately, the chatter fell to the missing.

"What's going on?" asked Sophia from somewhere up the table, "where is everybody? I noticed that Gabe's gone," _You would notice,_ I thought bitterly, but I had put my history with Sophia behind me, and so didn't voice the snide remark.

"People have been talking," Michael Nixon said beside me, "about... _You-Know-Who,_" people had gotten into the oddest habit of not mentioning Voldemorts name, as if the mere utterance of it would curse them or something. I, of course, did not fall victim to such idiotic superstition, but to my surprise this view was not taken by most people I knew.

"My mum didn't even want me coming this year," Elise agreed in a hushed voice, "she's a muggleborn, she was saying we should go to France for a year. This You-Know-Who stuff's freaking a lot of people out," the table suddenly erupted with stories about how other relatives had fled the country or wanted to, about how parents were beginning to wonder if Hogwarts was that safe anymore, if _anything _was safe.

Sirius nodded along sombrely to the conversation beside me. He knew first hand the destruction that had gone on during the summer. I wondered if he also thought that Hogwarts was no longer safe. If he shared that view, then it was probably a warranted fear.

"No," I said suddenly, somewhat to myself and my own worries about Hogwarts as much as to the conversation taking place. "No, nobody should be fleeing. As long as Dumbledore stays in Hogwarts, we're safe."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, James," Alice Fletcher warned, mid way through biting into a forkful of chicken, "people have been talking, saying the Dark Lord wanted to teach here. Who's to say with Malignatious gone he won't take the position?"

Everyone in the conversation cast a glance up to the teacher's table. Whoever was taking Malignatious' place as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had not shown themselves yet, and the seat was empty. We were not the only ones looking. It seemed that whoever wasn't talking about Voldemort was talking about the replacement.

"Listen to me," I said, calling back people's attention from the empty chair, "we're talking about Dumbledore here, the man who defeated Gellert Grindelwald! He could handle Voldemort if he wanted to."

"Then why hasn't he?"

That certainly was an unsettling question. For a moment, I allowed myself to turn it over in my mind. What was Dumbledore doing, allowing the death toll to get so high? As the greatest wizard of our time, surely he had a responsibility to all to help, to at least _try?_

But I pushed the question adamantly out of my head. Dumbledore knew what he was doing, we would all just have to trust him.

I didn't contribute to the conversation for the rest of dinner, I just stared at the empty Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher's chair and wonder who would be the next teacher?

That night, I dreamt the chair was filled with Spriteworth, but some things can only be true in dreams.

_**A/N: I've had a few rather angry reviews recently, which of course was somewhat warranted and I'm not telling anybody off, but I'd like to set the record straight, seeing as it was anonymous. I'm afraid some of you want me to move too fast. James is not yet at the point where he is able to hit on Lily every second, seeing as he has a girlfriend. The Kaise issue must first be resolved. **_

_**Also, they must have nicknames for each other. The current nicknames are IRONIC, like mothers being patronising to their children, or at least they were but now they stuck. I CANNOT CALL THEM MOONY, WORMTAIL, PADFOOT AND PRONGS IF THEY ARE NOT YET ANIMAGI! **_

_**Also, regarding chapter 36 (Someone Loves You, Sirius Black), Sirius is a rather more messed up boy than many realise. He has never truly experienced love except from his cousin, who recently left him. This means that when the only place he finds anything good (Hogwarts) is once again corrupted with the dark magic he is faced with at home, he snaps a little bit. I found this chapter a really good breaking point in James and Sirius' relationship, when the two became brothers.**_

_**Think what you will, but the relationship between James and Sirius is not as one-dimensional as many would believe, two boys who get into trouble, it just can't be. **_

_**For the rest of you, thanks for reading and listening to my rant, I hope that this had cleared things up for all of you, don't think less of me because of it!**_


	46. The New Professors

We strolled in to Defence Against the Dark Arts late the next morning to find no teacher present. I sat down at a desk beside Sirius, Remus and Peter sitting on the next desk over, and we talked between ourselves for a while. We had the class with the Slytherins, and I caught a glimpse behind his friends Avery and Mulciber, of Snape.

He looked different. He hadn't grown or broadened or washed his hair (unfortunately), but he looked stronger, more full of defiance. He chuckled along to Avery's maniacal cackle with a smile tinted with darkness. He was fierce, almost, in the way he joked with his friends, slightly deranged in his punch-lines and always with a thin-lipped, truly evil smile.

It bothered Lily, I could tell. She was watching them too, her eyes narrowed. It wasn't the way he laughed with her, it wasn't the light-hearted, meaningless humour they shared. Severus Snape was turning darker, away from the light that was all that was Lily Evans.

My thought were interrupted by the sudden shuffling of students who realised their teacher's just walked in and I looked around to see why they had stopped.

I heard it from behind me. The sound of heels clicking against stone. I turned to see a woman walking up to the desk in front of the room. She was tall with long black hair which tumbled down her chest to the bottom of her rib cage, shiny curls looping around her face. Her features were striking, green eyes piercing out from behind thick lashes which hung on heavy lids. Her lips were painted with a heated red and her cheekbones were clear and defined. She wore a robe over a tight pencil-skirt and blouse and her heels continued to click as she sashayed past me and up to the front of the classroom.

My mouth, along with all of those of every other boy in the room, fell open. She was _stunning, _though in her late thirties. She knew it too, she flaunted it in her every step as her hips swayed hypnotically from side to side. She wanted the boys to stare at her, she wanted to be the teacher all the boys lusted after.

Well if that's what she wanted, we would willingly oblige.

"Alright, class, welcome to third year Defence Against the Dark Arts, my name's Professor Ashworth," with a flick of her wand the name appeared on the chalkboard behind her, as if she didn't know we were committing every word she said to memory. She leant back against the desk and twiddled the wand between her two index fingers, biting her tongue.

"Well?" she asked after a while, expectantly. A frown was shared throughout the room, what was she waiting for? "What are _your _names? We'll go around the room."

Seeing as we were sitting at the back, we were the last to tell her our names, and the moment Sirius and I did, a knowing smile graced her lips.

"No, no, no, that won't do," she insisted, her voice low as her eyes narrowed, speaking to us alone, letting us know it was a privilege, "I am afraid you two are quite infamous amongst the Hogwarts staff, Mr Potter, Mr Black, you will not be sitting next to each other," as she said this, it seemed she noticed something and perked up.

"In fact! Let's everybody swap places, work with someone new! Everyone move over one seat to the left, and all of you on the ends come to the opposite end, now!" Her enthusiasm would have been annoying had it not had a false sense of innocence. Everything Professor Ashworth said had the inference of an ulterior motive beneath. I couldn't help but find it intoxicating.

I found myself sitting next to Snivellus himself, whilst Sirius and Peter were together and Remus next to Lily. He smiled at her shyly as she sat down and I felt a pang of jealousy as I slid in next to her sleazy best friend.

"Well, well, hello Snivellus," I said with a small smile, "I trust you had a good summer? I can see some lovely additions to the menagerie you've got going on in the birds nest on your head, is that a newt?"

"Potter, always a pleasure," he drawled. His response annoyed me, he wasn't playing along, he was just ignoring my attempts to infuriate him. Goodness would I enjoy practicing spells on this git.

"Wish I could say the same," I muttered under my breath, and then turned back to listen to Professor Ashworth, making it clear that the conversation was over and that _I _had the final word.

I spent the rest of the lesson sending notes to Sirius in the way we had developed, drawing various doodles of stickmen labelled 'Snivellus' dying in horrific ways until I felt better. I made sure to only mouth the words _I solemnly swear I'm up to no good, _and do it when he wasn't looking. The last thing I wanted was Snivellus knowing how to crack our code. He didn't really take notice though, he was too busy making googly eyes at Lily.

The next lesson was Divination, and I made sure to run quickly with Sirius so as not to be late and be left sitting next to anyone I didn't like. I also wanted to see the new Divination teacher Spriteworth had sent us.

Unfortunately, the time spent alone with Professor Séancine brought her to predict my untimely death.

By the time we reached the classroom we were both out of breath. Peter and Remus had fallen some way behind, Peter not fit enough to handle the stairs and Remus dawdling behind, talking to Lily. That same knot in my stomach twisted just a little bit with envy at the thought of Remus and Lily, engaged in 'intelligent conversation'.

"Blimey there are..."

"A lot of stairs? Yes, I thought so too," said a woman at the back of the room who glided forwards into the light. Two massive saucers of blue stared out at us from a narrow face half-masked by wild auburn hair which fell every which way, a ribbon lost within it in a failed attempt to tame it. Thin, pale lips spoke again.

"You must be James, Eris told me about you," she reached out long, bony fingers and took my hand as a Victorian noblewoman would, clasping her fingers in my hand for a moment before withdrawing. Her voice was husky, as though everything she said lay within the boundaries of a whisper.

"Yes, that's me," I confirmed, giving Sirius a look; _great, she's barking mad. _

"And Mr Black, the prodigal son of the Black house, you look so much like your family..." she stretched out a hand and Sirius recoiled from her touch. There was an awkward pause, but she didn't seem offended.

"I'm nothing like my family," he spat. She nodded, as if she should have known, and gestured to the nearest table for us to sit down. We sat, eyeing her.

Suddenly, she was gripped by some kind of seizure and her eyes rolled back into her head. I looked wildly to Sirius, who shrugged and made to move towards the teacher before her sagging mouth began to move, forming words slightly out of sync in a voice very unlike her own, harsh and commanding. I jumped at the sound and listened with ears pricked.

"_Greatness will be bestowed upon you, but not as you so deeply desire. For darkness to fall, you must fall, and from your ashes shall rise the light. Should you stay upright, the light will dim, the dark will engulf all. He is the only chance, neither... can live.. whilst the other..._" With an odd sort of grunt she looked up and held her head for a moment. Once she seemed to have gotten her bearings, she straightened.

"What did I say?" she asked, her wide eyes desperate.

"Uh... It's gonna rain tomorrow," I said quickly and she nodded slowly as students began to trickle into the classroom and take their places. She had no choice but to believe me.

"_For darkness to fall, you must fall, _what was that all about?" asked Sirius, a jeering tone in his voice. I adopted the same tone.

"Divination teachers, don't like seeing a happy future do they?" I asked, and thought nothing more of it. I often wonder what would have happened if I had. Would I have died for you, Harry? Could we all have lived, happy? Was that ever a choice?

The rest of the lesson I spent slightly shaken, telling myself again and again that it meant nothing. Soon enough, I began to believe it.

Divination turned out to be a nice chance to have tea and chat with friends, and Sirius and I had a good laugh predicting each other's unfortunate and obscure futures.

"C'mon, Remus, tell me will you?" I begged Remus for the eighteenth time as the lesson ended and we made our way to lunch.

"For the eighteenth time, James, she didn't say _anything _about you! We just talked..." he trailed off. I had spent the whole walk to the Great Hall quizzing him on every detail of his lesson sitting next to Lily Evans in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but he was being infuriatingly uncooperative.

"She must have said something, she hates me and you're my best friend!" I insisted.

"Who hates you?" asked a female voice from behind me. Kaise was standing expectantly, clutching a couple of textbooks to her chest. I found myself torn between telling her and dismissing it. Of course, I was going out with _Kaise, _not Lily, and Kaise wasn't the jealous type, but I wasn't going to let my alleged feelings for Lily Evans ruin both of my relationships.

"Professor Séancine, the new Divination teacher, she's a bit loopy really," I explained, taking her books from her and walking her to the Great Hall. She relinquished them thankfully and dismissed the conversation I had just been having with Remus. When her back was turned, I wiped my brow and Remus gave me a look, nodding towards Kaise. _She's your girlfriend, stop obsessing over Lily Evans._

The first Hogsmeade of trip was two weeks into the year, and Sirius and I had until then to work out how to get him onto the trip. Not only had his parents not signed his permission slip, they had hexed it so nobody could write on it and forge his signature.

Therefore, we schemed with Kaise that lunchtime on how to sneak him along with us.

"Are you certain you couldn't get McGonagall to bend the rules a little for you?" asked Remus, whose first instinct was always to go to a teacher before considering anything against the rules.

"McGonagall tells me off for bending the rules daily, I don't think she'd really be open to bending them now." Remus sighed. Of course, he should have known as much, but it would have been against his every instinct to ask.

"Well, there must be ways out of the castle, secret passages and the like?" asked Peter, who hadn't been around when Sirius and I had traversed the entire school looking for the very same passages. We informed him that there were none we knew about, and we didn't have time to go looking for them.

"You could fly there," Kaise suggested, "take one of the Cleansweeps the first years have flying lessons on." Sirius pondered this for a minute, kissing his teeth, before shaking his head.

"No, someone would see me," he said, and I knew what he was thinking, the cloak wouldn't conceal the broom. Kaise threw up her hands in exasperation.

"Well how did other troublemakers like yourself ever get out of the castle?" she cried before we all shushed her, glancing around to make sure she hadn't been heard. If anyone was listening, they hadn't made it obvious, and scanning the teacher's table nobody was eyeing us suspiciously as they so often did. We were safe.

"My brain hurts, I give up," Kaise insisted. "James, can I have a Fabulous Firework Façade? I'd like to try it on the new Defence teacher, see if any the boys even notice." I smiled, digging one out of my bag and tossing it to her as she stood. She shook it in thanks and then was gone. With her out of the way, I could finally speak freely.

"There's a simple way. It's not as flamboyant as I would normally have liked, but we do always have the cloak." Sirius shook his head.

"Won't work. If it rains, you'll see my footsteps in the mud and the rain around me not hitting the ground, if it doesn't the leaves will crunch under my feet. McGonagall's not that easy to fool."

Remus cleared his throat tentatively and we all looked over to him. He looked incredibly guilty, but even so he began to speak. "There might, _possibly, _be another way..." he began. We nodded, coaxing him to tell us. "Well, you guys have heard of the Shrieking Shack right?"

We nodded, Peter shuddered, "I-it's the most h-haunted place in B-Britain, i-isn't it?" he asked, trembling. I put a hand on his shoulder, feeling a bit sorry for him.

"Yeah, that's it Peter. It's near Hogsmeade, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well, I have a few suspicions as to what haunts it," he said, and suddenly I was pulled back in my memory to that night last year, following Remus through the tunnel, into the dusty house, watching him howl and yelp and scream as he tore at himself. Realisation washed over me and I began to laugh, full on laughing out loud.

"It's _you, _isn't it? You're the thing that haunts the Shack! That's brilliant!" In my mind, I saw fourth year boys in the Gryffindor common room, daring each other to touch it next time they went, whispering about the darkness the shack held within it. Then, I looked at smiling, perfect Remus, who on any other day would never hurt a fly much less a Hogwarts student.

"Wait, _you? _As in wolf-you?" Sirius hissed and Remus nodded. Sirius and Peter hadn't seen the shack where Remus went for his transformations, they had only heard about it from me and Remus, so they couldn't have known, but now Sirius smiled.

"Remus, that's brilliant! I'll go to the shack in the invisibility cloak and meet you in Hogsmeade!"

And so our plans for Hogsmeade were set.

_**A/N: You'll find similarities in Professor Séancine and Professor Tralewny, but I wanted her to be a Seer and dear Sybill is only hired in 1980, so what are you going to do? Otherwise, hope you enjoyed the chapter, another one'll be coming your way shortly! Please Review for me**_


	47. Hogsmeade

The Hogsmeade trip arrived not a moment too soon when I threw my cloak to Sirius that morning. It was drizzling outside, but darker clouds above threatened worse. Sirius had been right about wearing the cloak, it wouldn't have been enough to conceal him from the elements.

"Do you think I'll be warm enough?" squeaked Peter as he shoved his head through the neck-hole of a second knitted jumper, squirming his arms through it and wrestling it over his stomach. "My mum doesn't want me catching cold."

A dozen snide remarks came to my mouth, but I bit my tongue as Remus said; "You should be fine, Peter, it's not too cold outside anyway." I looked down at my own fleece hoodie and jeans and hoped he was right.

We said goodbye to Sirius in the common room and, armed with our two-way mirror, made our way to the entrance hall. We stood in a line with the rest of the Hogsmeade goers whilst Filch read out a register, eyeing each student suspiciously as they responded with an excited 'Present!'. When he reached me, he gave me a particularly distrustful stare.

"Where's your little friend?" he asked, scanning the 'B's on his list.

"He didn't have his permission slip signed, and you know how he _hates _to break the rules."

Filch knew nothing of the sort, but gave me a wary nod and moved on. I held the mirror in my hands and peeked at it. A silver eye winked at me once, and then vanished from sight. I put the mirror away and walked with the others to the carriages which awaited to take us to Hogsmeade.

Hogsmeade was truly beautiful. It looked like something you see in hand painted fairytale book, like the village from The Hopping Pot. The shops and houses were small, thatched affairs, their only protection magical enchantments against the oncoming sleet. We paced through the street wondrously, and it took every effort to restrain ourselves from running right in to Honeydukes or Zonko's without Sirius. Remus had to pull us back, reminding us that Sirius would be arriving in the Shack any moment.

From a distance, even I got chills from looking at the Shrieking Shack. I blamed it on the cold bite of the rain at the time, but it was more than that. It looked so decrepit and grey against its cold background that one could almost hear the screams that tormented it each night. One look at Remus' face made it worse. People didn't understand how haunted that house really was. For this thirteen year old, it was a place of absolute pain and animosity. It held all the ghosts of everything he hated in himself, and if something was painful to one of us, it was painful to all of us.

We loitered a little bit away from the shack with a few other students, waiting for Sirius. I took a few inadvertent looks into the mirror whilst we did, but all I saw was the inside of his pocket.

"It's really not that scary, if you ask me," declared Davey Gudgeon, puffing out his chest for a couple of fourth year girls who cocked skeptical eyebrows. "I reckon it's just a ploy to get more people to come here."

"I don't know," I said nonchalantly, looking out towards the Shack, "looks pretty creepy from here."

"Well of course _you _would say that Potter, you're just a third year, trust me, when you've seen what fifth years see, you'll understand," I would have been willing to let the subject go, but I was growing restless with every moment of Sirius' absence and I resented Davey's tone. I wanted to remind him of who exactly had dueled the evil Dark Arts teacher last year, but I decided instead that there were more fun ways of doing things.

"So you'd go in it then?" I challenged. There was a shared 'ooh' from the gathered as I looked at Davey expectantly. His face paled.

"What, like you would?" He shot back. I kissed my teeth.

"If it's not as scary as your fifth year syllabus I suppose I could give it a shot," I shrugged, looking again at the mirror. Nothing. Davey shifted from foot to foot, agitated by the challenge and unwilling to embarrass himself in front of a couple of pretty girls. I flashed a smile at them as he struggled for a word to say, but they just seemed to think I was cute.

"I'd like to see you try then," Davey finally replied, quite aware that he looked like the coward not going down himself but still scared of the derelict hovel.

"I bet you a galleon I could go in and stay there for five minutes," I said and Peter gasped. I wasn't sure if he was acting along with me or if he had just forgotten that it was his best friend that actually haunted the house. Remus just grinned at me and I knew what he was thinking. That was _his _galleon.

"You're on, Potter," he said, drawing a golden coin from his coin pouch and holding it in between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it there enticingly. I pulled out my own and flipped it, catching it again and placing it in my pocket before walking towards the house. I heard scandalised whispers behind me growing fainter as I drew further and further towards the Shack.

I stood outside for a moment, staring up at it. The wooden boards which once may have been identified as walls were moldy and bent inwards, and the rain on the small patio turned to a thick sludge of wet dust. I stood for a moment, looking back and sighing. I could almost hear the triumph from Davey at my alleged downfall, he was probably dancing around and dreaming of his galleon.

Then, I turned around to face them, reached behind me and tried the handle. The door was unlocked and I slowly slipped through with a large wave, into the house.

It was different in the daylight then it was at night hiding from my flesh-eating best friend. It was dusty and quiet, but the light filtering in through dirty windows made it seem less spooky and more like a house. I sat down and waited, staring at the trapdoor from which Sirius would enter, waiting.

He arrived three minutes in, smiling as his head popped through the trapdoor and surveyed its surroundings, followed by the rest of his body and then the cloak, which he evidently wasn't wearing. Of course, he hadn't expected anybody else to be in the Shack with him...

"Boo!" I yelled, jumping out from behind a doorway as Sirius closed the trap door. I expected more of a reaction, but Sirius, used to things much scarier that fake-haunted houses, only started and then turned around and grinned at me, waving his mirror in his other hand. He had already seen me coming.

"C'mon, let's go!" he exclaimed excitedly and I checked my watch, I still had one and a half minutes to wait. When I didn't follow Sirius to the door as he pulled on his cloak, he turned back and frowned at me for a moment, so I quickly explained about Davey's dare. When I had finished, he sat thoughtfully for a moment, and then broke into an even wider smile.

"Well staying in the house is nothing if it's not haunted," he remarked.

"Yeah, I know, that's kind of exactly the point," I told him, surprised he hadn't picked that part up immediately. Sirius shook his head to say I didn't understand.

"No, I mean, surely it would be more worth the galleon if the house _was _haunted," with that, Sirius began to howl loudly, wand to his throat so that it echoed across the whole house and beyond. I smiled, finally realising what he meant, and began to add to his blood-curling screams with yelps of agony of my own. In my mind, I wondered how hard it was for Remus right now to keep from laughing and giving us away, and how freaked out Peter must be.

With ten seconds left, I took my wand from my neck and began to laugh. "I think they've had enough now," I told Sirius, who did the same but didn't put away his wand.

"Well, we still can't have you leaving without any battle scars, that would be too easy," he said, and muttered a spell I'd never heard before. He began tracing a line along my forehead which curved down my cheek with his wand and I soon felt liquid dripping down onto my eyelid. I brought a finger up to it and let a drop fall onto it. Blood, definitely blood, I realised as I brought it back down to my eyes, staring at the crimson drop.

"What is this, Siri?" I asked, gesturing to the gash he had given me, which oddly enough didn't hurt at all.

"It's just a spell I made up when I was younger," he explained, "It causes wounds which don't hurt, and they're gone in a day or two. Its a good way to make people think you've had enough..." he trailed off as we edged nearer to abuse-territory and Sirius would say nothing else. I let it drop as the second hand met twelve.

"Put on the cloak, let's go," I told him, and proceeded to run through the rain out of the house, blood mingling with water to run completely down the left side of my face and make the cut look even more gruesome. I began yelling as I reached the group, and when finally I got to them I threw myself at Davey, hands balling his collar into fists, eyes crazed.

"There are things in there!" I told him in a maddened stage whisper. Davey couldn't stop staring at the cut on my head, but I held his attention with my warnings of spirits, "Terrible, _terrible _things! Beware!"

At that moment, I saw a shifting in the rain, barely noticeable, just a lump where the rain didn't reach the ground, and it struck Davey in the back on his head. He jumped back in fright and whipped his head around.

"Which one of you did that?" he demanded to people standing meters away from him, "Which one of you thumped me? Which one?" he sounded desperate as he began to rub the back of his hand and I backed away, still looking nuts, and slumped against Remus who was looking very worried about his traumatised best friend.

"I did, Davey," Sirius whispered, just loudly enough for us to hear.

"Did you hear that?" Davey asked, frightened. We all shook our heads vigorously, but I clutched my head and fell to the floor yelling.

"See what I did?" Sirius hissed, and Davey looked around wildly again.

"Did you hear it this time?" he asked desperately to the girls, they nodded, quivering, and turned to run. Davey tossed his galleon into the mud beside me, as if the spirit would follow them, and followed the girls back to Hogsmeade. When he was well out of earshot, we all collapsed into hysterics and Sirius pulled off the cloak to calm down Peter, who had now fallen victim to the trick twice.

I threw the coin to Remus, who smiled and pocketed it, and stood, drying myself off with a quick charm and ushering Sirius to don the cloak once more so that we could follow the terrified Davey into Hogsmeade.

Unfortunately, in his terrified frenzy, Davey ran all the way back to Hogwarts and, blinded by rain, right into the Whomping Willow. I still maintain that the loss Davey Gudgeon's eye was his own fault.

I could hear the gasps from Sirius walking beside me as we made our way through Hogsmeade. He pulled us in to Zonko's immediately, and we spent the better part of an hour within the gaggle of Hogwarts students, commenting on how we thought some items could be improved, and marveling at the ingenuity of others.

We left without buying a single thing, but with a world of new ideas for pranks.

We then went into Honeydukes, which was also filled with Hogwartians, all looking for the perfect midnight-feast snack. Among them I spotted Lily, who was looking through assorted flavours of Fizzing Whizzbees. I was slipping through the crowd so I was standing next to her, before I noticed her slimy haired companion. He was eyeing us all suspiciously, and had been doing so quite a lot recently. I was tempted to confront him about it, but a brawl in Honeydukes could lead to our getting kicked out, which I certainly didn't want, so I turned and picked up a pack of Licorice Snaps and paid for them.

Tired of having fought through our peers and thirsty, we sought refuge in the Three Broomsticks. I had other reasons for wanting to go, however. Spriteworth was still living above it, and I wanted to talk to him. Amidst all the planning for this trip, I had sent him an owl, and he had assured me he'd be waiting.

We entered to the very pleasing sight of the inn maid, sashaying her way through the room, placing butterbeer on the tables whilst strategically accentuating the curve of her hips. Sirius drew off the cloak at the sight of her and sat immediately at the bar. I sat next to him, Remus and Peter beside us, shifting as they looked out for teachers, in case Sirius should be spotted.

"Hello boys, what can I get you?" she asked, leaning forward on the bar so her cleavage was clearly visible. Sirius and I kept our eyes right on hers, smiling twin smiles.

"You're name would be a good start," Sirius said smoothly. She cocked an eyebrow.

"We'll start," I assured her, "I'm James Potter, and this is Sirius Black." We both extended hands which she accepted, saying;

"Nice to meet you two, I'm Rosmerta, would you like a drink?" Many innuendos rushed to my tongue but I held them back as Sirius ordered us a round of Butterbeer with a wink.

The sensation of drinking butterbeer after a long day of shivering in the rain was second to none. Warmth in its purest form poured down my throat in a buttery stream and stoked embers in my stomach until they remained at a comfortable flare. When I had finished the whole pint, I stood and looked around until I saw a figure in a more cut off section of the pub, shielded by three walls. I bit my friends goodbye as they left me to explore and slid in to the booth.

"James," came a familiar voice as I quickly embraced my favorite ex-teacher. Eris smiled at me. I, however, didn't smile back. Instead, I looked at him expectantly until he sighed. "There are things I need to tell you," he conceded and I nodded.

"Why did you leave?" I finally asked, a question I didn't want answered on paper, a question I wanted answered as he looked me in the eye.

"I can't tell you entirely why yet," he began and I huffed, but he didn't let it interrupt him, "But I couldn't stay at Hogwarts, James. There was something wrong about teaching there the second year. It was like every day I woke up I had a terrible feeling that I had to leave, _needed _to leave, some kind of dread would wash over me at the thought of staying."

The answer wasn't satisfying to me. "You left because of a _feeling?_" It was the insubstantial nature of his reason which made me feel somewhat betrayed again. I had been able to accept his leaving, but feelings are a hard reason for justification to accept with that same feeling of betrayal worming through you.

"More then a feeling," he told me gravely, and began to pull down his shirt a little bit. I soon saw what he meant. The flesh of his chest was black and hard, like he'd been burned and the skin had healed over as something stronger to never allow flames to ravage the flesh again.

"It began as a dot in the summer of the first year, when I assured Professor Dumbledore I'd be returning to my post," he explained, "but the longer I taught the bigger it grew until it had taken my whole chest and left shoulder. When I saw the opportunity that day, I showed it to Professor Dumbledore. He told me to leave, that Hogwarts wasn't safe for me."

I didn't react to his words, only stared at the ashen skin of his shoulder and heard his words echo through my mind. _Hogwarts wasn't safe for me. _Hogwarts was the only way I could keep the darkness in the world, the deaths and injuries, at arm's length. The more people said Hogwarts wasn't safe, the closer those things became. To hear Eris say it was to draw it so close it was only a hair's breadth from swallowing me entirely.

"You used the muffliato charm," I said, sounding more bitter than perhaps I intended.

"I couldn't allow you to hear the whole conversation, James. There are things you still don't understand, things I can't yet tell you." I nodded, and another thought occurred to me.

"What are you doing now?" I asked, seeing as he was back from his travels and he had no job at Hogwarts to return to.

"I've applied to be an Auror for the Ministry. They're recruiting many more these days," I nodded. Ministry officials had come in to talk to the seventh years last week about considering a job in the Auror office. They were recruiting for war.

Eris and I talked for a while about the 'old times', and I told him the story of Malignatious and our triumph, and of our Quidditch match and Eris had laughed and lapped at my animated retelling where appropriate, and apologised for his leaving without a suitable placement as he heard about Frank.

When three rounds of butterbeer had gone by, I bade him farewell and set off with my friends back to Hogwarts, feeling all together better.

_**A/N: Here's my correction for my little mistake of why Spriteworth was the Defence teacher in James' second year as well as his first. As we all know, there was that pesky little matter of Voldemort's jinx on the position so each teacher would only stay one year. I also hope you enjoyed my little prank on Davey Gudgeon (Who in the books did actually lose his eye to the Whomping Willow) Please read and review for me!**_


	48. Queries

We went to visit Davey Gudgeon in the hospital wing, and I couldn't contain my disappointment when I noticed he was unfortunately two eyed. He smiled at us weakly as we placed a jar of Licorice Snaps on his bedside and he looked up at us with mismatched eyes.

"Hey, Davey," Remus said, sitting in the empty chair beside his bed. He felt most grievous about the whole affair with Davey's eye. Sirius and I had spent most of the day congratulating each other after we heard the news, but Peter was still incredibly shaken. He shouted in his sleep for the rest of the week.

"Hey Potter, friends," he nodded to Remus, Sirius and Peter respectively.

"Sorry 'bout your eye," I mumbled, shuffling my feet, staring at them as I progressively scuffed my boots.

"S'alright," he said, feeling as awkward as I did. "They made me another one, those healers from St Mungo's. It's not the same colour though," he winked so only his new eye was visible, shining bright blue in contrast to his natural brown one.

"I thought things like eyes couldn't be replaced..." Sirius mused, trying to fill the silence that ensued.

"They can't if it's really messed up, but that tree took my eye straight out so it was fine, I s'pose. I don't really care as long as I can see straight." We nodded in agreement, feeling decidedly less sorry for him now that he looked just mildly eccentric rather than just plain crippled.

After an excruciating few minutes filled with meaningless talk about the weather, we were saved by Remus checking his watch.

"It's time for Transfiguration," he announced, and we all thankfully gathered our things and said goodbye to Davey, wishing him a speedy recovery in time to commentate the next Quidditch match. He assured us he wouldn't miss it for the world, even if he needed Omnioculars to see for the rest of his life.

Our Transfiguration lesson was more interesting than most, and very informative. We sat at our tables quickly and pulled out our textbooks. I sat with Peter, Sirius with Belle and Remus, once again, sat next to Lily. I scolded myself again for being jealous at their new budding friendship. If anything, Remus liked Cissy anyway. And he knew how I felt about Lily. I should be looking at this as an opportunity, I told myself, for Remus to talk me up.

Professor McGonagall seemed excited as she began this particular class. She smiled more than usual, and informed us that we were in for a 'treat', although most of us doubted that we would have the same definition of 'treat' that our aged Transfiguration professor did. She did not, however disappoint.

Before we were even given a page reference, McGonagall suddenly leapt into the air and shrank at the same time, landing gracefully on her desk no longer a human but instead a cat, with spectacle-like markings around its eyes, the only proof that the feline had ever been our teacher at all.

This brought on a round of applause from the entire class, including and most especially the three of us who hoped to achieve the same feat some point in the near future and were well aware of the effort it took to become and Animagus.

The cat-McGonagall prowled around the table for a while, accepting the applause, before morphing back into her human self. The applause for this next feat was weaker but no less deserved. McGonagall waited for it to ease slightly before she dictated notes on Animagi, and we particularly noted that she remained clothed when she changed back, a fact that we found with much relief.

"Animagi, plural Animagus, is a person who can turn themselves into an animal at will. The animal is not up to decision, it is decided for you by your own personality, quite like one's corporeal patronus..."

As everyone exited the classroom at the end of the lesson, the chatter was more excited than usual. I did not leave immediately, however, as a certain question plagued my mind and I saw perhaps my only opportunity to have it answered. I remained at my desk, hands clasped in front of me and my bag obediently packing itself with my quill, inkwell and parchment, as well as my textbook.

"I have never known you to be so enthusiastic about class that you stayed behind at the end of it, Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall remarked as she looked up to find that I was still there.

"You underestimate your teaching skills, Professor, I find your class truly fascinating," I replied, and she paused for a moment, pondering whether to scold me on my insolence or simply take it as a compliment. She did the latter, accepting my words with a small inclination of the head which I returned.

"What is it that you want, Mr Potter, I am afraid that Professor Slughorn would not be appreciative of you turning up late to his lesson, and I refuse to be your excuse."

"I had a question, Professor," I explained, and she looked at me skeptically.

"Asking questions is what my class is for, I am not entirely certain why you have left it until now to do so," she said with a frown, and I realised for a moment that perhaps that would have been a better plan.

"While I understand that, Professor, I'm not entirely sure if a question like this would be regarded as rude," I explained. It wasn't quite that, but I wasn't sure if it was prying too deep, or insinuating something unsavory.

"Yes, well, we'll see about that won't we?" she asked, clearly impatient for me to be getting off to my next class.

"I was only wondering if when you turned into a cat," I paused for a moment, wondering if there were a way I could have phrased that better though McGonagall didn't seem to mind, she just nodded to me to continue, "Do you still, y'know, _think?_" McGonagall pondered the question a moment before answering.

"Not many people have asked me that before. If you are asking whether or not I maintain human consciousness, yes I do, to some extent, but the cat instincts are somewhat heightened in some senses and dampened in others." I nodded, calmed by the idea that whilst I was an animal I'd still have mind enough to keep Remus safe.

"And can you, um, can you _talk _to other animals?" I asked. The question was dangerous. It bordered on too interested, and made me seem suspicious. Of course, if I wanted to become an Animagus illegally and was caught, I'd be sent to Azkaban. I knew that with complete certainty. I also knew that Professor McGonagall was my smartest professor bar the headmaster himself, and the most suspicious. Her eyebrows knitted together as she thought carefully about my answer.

"Why do you want to know, Potter?" she asked. And I tried to not look like I was outrightly lying as I fumbled for an answer.

"I'm just interested, Professor, I've always wondered if animals could talk. I didn't think it was an appropriate question for the lesson, when there are more important things we need to learn about."

McGonagall was unconvinced, but could find no glaring flaws in my argument enough to refuse me an answer. "I can speak to animals to some extent, dogs and cats are more intelligent than insects or birds," I watched her with quizzical eyes, clear that this was not what I was asking but I didn't want to articulate the question exactly just in case it gave me away. McGonagall sighed, relinquishing the information finally, "And yes, I can communicate with other Animagi just like I can with humans."

I smiled, my mood lightened as all my worries were rendered moot. I thanked McGonagall quickly and gathered up my packed bag before turning and heading for the door. I was almost entirely through it when I heard McGonagall's voice behind me.

"Potter?" she called, and I popped my head back through the door, eyebrows raised, "Whatever it is you want to know this for, I advise extreme caution," she said gravely, and I knew then that she had seen through my entire act but, knowing the condition of my best friend, had said nothing else.

"Of course, Professor," I assured her, my expression equally as solemn.

I don't know if Professor McGonagall ever truly found out that we had become Animagi though I expect she didn't, considering your Godfather's escape, Harry, but I am sure that to this day she still maintains her suspicions.

Professor Slughorn had an inextinguishable enthusiasm at the beginning of each year, and it took until the very end of the year to make him anything resembling moody. It was refreshing the first few days of term, but weeks in it began to get annoying.

"James!" he exclaimed as I walked in, one of the few teachers who did refer to me in annoyance by my last name, and fewer still not to care when I showed up late to every lesson without fail.

"Good afternoon, Professor Slughorn," I greeted him, taking my place next to Frank Longbottom. He smiled at me as I sat and I grinned back, glad to see that his eyebrows had grown back after our last potions lesson. Frank was not the most adept to handle a cauldron over a burning flame.

We picked up our textbooks and noted that we would be working again with Shrivel-figs, this time for the actual shrinking draught.

Frank and I talked meaninglessly as we prepared the draught, not really mentioning anything of substance, like the fact I'd been sitting in the hospital bed right next to his when he was rushed in missing half his skin, or that I had brought the perpetrator to justice. Mostly he just told me about how Shrivel-figs grown in all seasons and could grow to twice the size of the ones we were using now. I told him it was very interesting and immediately forgot what he had been saying.

Disaster struck as we let the potion simmer, as disaster tended to do around Frank Longbottom. He had been staring over at some Hufflepuff girls across the room and leant his arm on the desk when they looked over and, so stunned that he had actually made eye contact, he had knocked the cauldron over entirely, spilling it on his arm.

I instinctively stepped away from the dripping liquid as it splattered all over the floor, but as I watched, Frank's sleeve flopped, no longer filled with an arm that was shrinking right up to his shoulder. The Hufflepuff girls, who had been giggling until this point, squealed and signaled to Professor Slughorn that an accident had happened. _Again._

"Oh dear, Mr Longbottom, again! Well well, no need to worry, I should have a growth tonic somewhere in here..." he walked back to his supplies cupboard and rummaged around for a while as Frank looked panicked at his ever-shrinking arm, which seemed now to be too small. He shrugged off his robe and tore off his sleeve to watch as tiny fingers wriggled, trying their best not to disappear entirely.

"Eureka!" Slughorn pulled out a small vial and a pipette and took jogged back to Frank, who's arm was so small it was becoming hard to make out. He took his time filling the pipette as Frank begged for him to hurry, and then slowly added one, two, three drops to the affected area.

In moments, Frank's arm had returned to normal and the class had returned to their seats.

"I had intended to test the draughts with cabbages," Slughorn announced, laughing with that ceaseless enthusiasm, "but I suppose this works just as well. Excellent draught, the two of you, ten points to Gryffindor!"

Frank smiled meekly as he looked down at his normal arm again, sticking out of a hole in his shirt he had made in his delirium. He now picked up the sleeve in the other hand and sighed.

"Mum's gonna kill me."

_**A/N: I am sorry for the irregular updates, but where I am currently internet is scarce. The main focus of this session was really for James' qualms about becoming an Animagus to be resolved and also to explain how Davey Gudgeon only 'nearly' lost his eye. However that last bit with Frank was a lot of fun.**_

_**Thanks for reading, more substantial chapters coming soon! Review for me please!**_


	49. Sirius' Betrayal

At some point, I'm not sure when, I began to suspect that we were being followed.

It started in the second year, a little after we found out about Remus' furry little problem. The relationship between the four of us visibly changed at that point, we all got closer, and I began to feel a prickling on the back of my neck, like somebody was watching us. I dismissed it at first.

And then, of course, there was the incident in the Room of Requirement, when the book began to fall through the floor. From then on I couldn't quell the instinct that said someone was _definitely _watching us. Not only at lunch any more but when we walked in the corridors, when we cut class that same prickling returned.

But I couldn't be entirely sure until at this moment, when I saw a couple of big Ravenclaws heckled by a stupid Slytherin with a death wish.

"Keep reading about girls, mate, god knows you won't get any in real life," Avery sneered as he walked past. It was a warm day for October in Britain, so everybody was taking advantage of the sunshine, sitting outside by the lake. The Ravenclaws in question looked up from their books, clearly quite aware that they could do better in terms of insults, but offended nonetheless.

"I'm sure a charmer like you has _plenty _of girls," the bigger one said, right hand twitching by his wand, at which point Avery's face paled. He realised he was no match for two students from the cleverest house.

A stunning spell flew at him and he hopped out of the way, sending a half-hearted petrifying charm back which fizzled off a shield charm easily, all too happy not to hit its target in a show of pathetic magic.

I didn't pay attention until I realised that Avery was now joined by his greasy-haired friend, there to stand up for him.

Before the Ravenclaws had time to react, he had cast a spell I didn't recognize and they stared instantly at their feet which, to their amazement and the amazement of their onlookers, were sinking into the ground. I watched as their knees sank halfway down before I realised where I had seen the spell before.

In the Room of Requirement. With the book.

I let out a loud gasp and Snivellus broke his focus at the sound, for a moment, his dark eyes met mine in a moment of clarity. _He _had followed us to the room that night, _he _had been spying on us, and now he knew I had figured it out, and his eyes flashed with fright as mine narrowed.

The moment held for a second longer, and then he was gone, sprinting back to the castle to cower in the Slytherin common room, snatching Avery's hand as they legged it, black robes and green ties flapping as they ran.

I didn't realise it, but I had stood at the epiphany, and now my friends were giving me strange looks. I sat again beside them, leaning against a large tree whose leaves sheltered us from the glare of the sun, filtering it to a soft, green glow.

"What is it, James?" Peter asked. He always got apprehensive when I did things like that, stood suddenly or looked like something just hit me, it often meant we were all about to get into trouble.

"Snivellus, he's been spying," I said, my voice even and cool. I knew that the rest of them had probably had the same inklings I did, but we were all in the habit of dismissing such things until we had definitive proof, for fear that we'd be laughed at otherwise.

Most students hadn't payed heed to what had just happened, Slytherins often sauntered around starting unwarranted duels here, as most teachers were generally further within the grounds of the castle. Nobody told because, in truth, it was a good place to practice spells on each other, and so we all appreciated the sanctity of the place. It also meant that duels were so common they drew little attention, and nobody had noticed the spell Snivellus had just used, so my friends didn't look too convinced.

"He just did it! Remember, the sinking spell from that first night whilst Remus was dealing with his... furry little problem?" I spoke through my teeth, too excited to speak in a full whisper.

Sirius and Peter's eyes widened as they realised, and Remus suddenly went very pale.

"James, you don't think he _knows, _do you?" he asked, his voice cracked on the final question as he began to contemplate what Snivellus knowing of his wolf-self would mean for his life here at Hogwarts, his wizarding education, his future.

"If he knew, he'd have told everyone by now, or blackmailed you with it," it wasn't exactly a comfort, but it was the best I could offer him. He nodded shakily but didn't relax. Sirius, in the meantime, was seething.

"That little twerp," he breathed, "I knew somebody had been following us! What gives him the right to go poking that abnormally large nose of his into other people's business?" I saw that terrifying anger Sirius harboured begin to rise up again and immediately joked, somewhat afraid to unleash it upon a crowd of so many unsuspecting people.

"That's a good one, Siri, _abnormally large nose out of other people's business, _someone ought to write that down," Remus, who saw what I was doing, dutifully pulled out a ready-inked quill with a flourish and began to do just that.

Sirius chuckled, but didn't seem entirely calmed. I tried to ignore it, pretended I was over-exaggerating, and somewhere in my mind prayed he wouldn't do anything stupid.

But Sirius was always headstrong, irrational and very like me. Which meant he was often stupid.

He let it go for a little while, trusting that now Snivellus knew we were onto him, he would stop following us, as we would be more wary. As this theory proved accurate, we began to loosen up again, we stopped looking over our shoulders as we walked and scanning rooms we walked into.

When we were discussing our plans for the next full moon however, I spotted it again. The prickling. My head snapped around immediately to find black, greasy hair flying back behind a column. Of course, we always spoke in code about such things except for in the dorm with the muffliato charm, so Severus Snape would have been under the same impression as everybody else, that Remus had a deranged rabbit to see to, but he had probably guessed that this was not the case.

I pulled out my wand and muttered, "_Petrificus Totalus,_" and from behind the column fell Severus Snape, petrified and stark still, lying on his side.

At the sound of his body clunking against the stone floor of the corridor, my friends turned around and Sirius' normally glittering silver eyes dulled to a dark grey, narrowing to almost slits. With fists clenched by his sides he stormed up to the body and grabbed hold of its green and silver tie, yanking it and putting his lips to his ear.

He spent a few moments there, muttering ferociously whilst the open eyes of Severus Snape darted around wildly, until he stood again and flung down the tie, leaving some other student to release the enchantment.

As we walked back to the common room, I had assumed that all Sirius had told him was a bunch of threats he had heard from his own home, things to really scare him and make sure he never did it again, but I was so wrong, and what almost happened that night scarred Remus forever.

As the sun steadily set, throwing pinkish hues across the horizon, Remus readied himself. He grabbed himself a pile of clothes for the next day, some extra dittany for his stores, and stashed his wand in a box his wolf-self couldn't penetrate. When he was done, he turned to us with a weak smile. He was always pasty and looked ill right before a full moon, but it didn't make it less heartbreaking when he broke the smile to hold his fist to his mouth and sit down, clutching the poster of his bed with the other as though he were going to heave.

He finally stood and bid us adieu, taking shaky steps to the Great Hall where he'd meet Madam Pomfrey.

When he was gone and we could do no more in the way of comforting, we piled under the cloak and headed for the Room of Requirement. Upon arrival, we drew out the book from its hiding place and threw it on the table, coughing as it exuded a cloud of dust. The whole time Sirius smiled.

He smiled as his third attempt to transform a rat failed.

He smiled as Peter's spell backfired and he fell back, turning over to find a tail which I quickly got rid of.

He even and most annoyingly smiled when I told him to stop bloody _smiling. _

"What is that you're grinning about?" I asked through clenched teeth, feeling oddly apprehensive but mostly annoyed by his unresponsiveness. Sirius turned to me, flashing white teeth and winking.

"Snivellus has no idea what he's in for," he said cryptically, and I almost smiled with him as I thought of Snape's room booby trapped or whatever else it was Sirius had planned, but the image of Sirius fiercely whispered in the ear of the petrified Snivellus. The apprehension flared and the smile immediately faded.

"Sirius, what did you do?" I asked warningly. That ever-enduring grin widened.

"He wanted to know what we do on the full moon," Sirius said, "so I told him."

There was a moment of silence as I processed this, interrupted by a gasp from Peter, who seemed to grasp what Sirius had just said quicker than I did. Sirius' smile no longer seemed mischievous as I came to the same conclusion Peter did, it was sadistic.

But I had no time to scold him on it, and I quickly turned on my heel and ran to the nearest wall. _I need to get out of the castle, _I thought, _NOW! _The Room complied, creating a small opening which I ducked through and began to run, leaving Peter and Sirius behind.

I ran as quickly as I could down through the tunnel the Room had created for me, and found that it opened out into the night at the closest wall to the Whomping Willow. I thanked it silently as it closed and began to run towards it, a stitch gnawing at my side.

I picked up a rock as I ran and threw it with Chaser-like precision, hitting the knot on the tree which stilled it, then quickly clambered down into the tunnel beneath it. I continued to run despite the stitch that was now burning along with my muscles, my lungs gasping for air. The further I ran, the more scared I became. _How far has he gotten?_

Sirius had sent Snivellus down the path towards the dangerous monster our friend became once a month. I worried now how far he had gotten, and wether Remus had killed him yet.

I was greeted finally with light near the end of the pathway, lit by the wand of an intruder in his green pyjamas. I had felt my way through the tunnel and mainly gone by instinct, so he didn't see me coming with something quite as obvious as a light, but he most certainly heard me and whipped around.

"Well, well, James, gone back on your word? Don't try to stop me, I'm finding out what you're doing in here." he gestured to the tunnel, not understanding it wasn't the tunnel that was the problem, it was what was at the end of it.

"Get out of here, Snivellus," I said testily, but he shook his head in defiance and then turned, running the opposite way through the tunnel, further towards Remus. _Not more running, _I begged, and quickly took off behind him. We began to reach the end, and in an act of desperation I launched myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck and pulling him down.

Snivellus grappled with my hands and pulled me off him, pushing up through the trapdoor and I heard a snarling as the wolf senses noticed us and the trapdoor closed again. I pulled out my wand, falling back to my last resort.

As the trapdoor opened again and a wolf's snout appeared, I raised it.

"_Stupefy!_" I yelled, stunning the already stunned Snivellus and levitating him, taking him back down the tunnel.

I ran quickly through the castle, drawing him into a corner and slapped his face a little, bringing him back to his senses. His eyes widened as he realised what he had seen and stood, mouth open as if he were about to exclaim it.

"Don't say a _word,_" I hissed angrily, "come with me." Snape was too shocked to protest and nodded, following me to Professor Dumbledore's office. The gargoyle was reluctant to disturb the Headmaster's sleep, but did so at my protestation, almost yelling the password.

When we entered the office, he was rubbing sleep from his eyes under the half-moon glasses, but otherwise still looked as alert as ever.

"Mr Potter, I..." Dumbledore's preference for me to stay in bed during curfew wasn't as important to me as what I had to say.

"He saw Remus, sir," I said hurriedly, and the sparkling blue eyes immediately widened.

"Oh, _dear,_" he said, peering into the eyes of Snape beside me. He stood and swept towards us, robes brushing against the floor.

Dumbledore, _thankfully, _didn't ask us what had happened, he just accepted that something had to be done and held his arm out to Snape.

"Sir, I..." Snape began, unsure if he wanted to take it.

"It's not an Unbreakable Vow, Severus, but I do need to be sure that you tell nobody what you've seen, I'm afraid young Mr Lupin could not remain at school here if parents knew, and he needs and education." Snape nodded and took his hand, lines immediately appearing between them as he swore not to tell a soul. When they were done, he drew his hand back.

"You won't die if you tell anyone, Mr Snape, but it would be incredibly uncomfortable," he warned. Snape nodded and returned for bed, but I waited, feeling that we were not quite done here.

"I didn't think, James, that I would have to tell you explicitly the sensitivity of Remus' condition."

"I know, Professor," I assured him nodding, feeling his disappointment.

"I expect you to guard his secret better from now on, I cannot make all students vow to me that they will not tell."

"I know, Professor," I said again, not meeting his eye.

"Very well then, off to bed," he said and yawned, getting up and waving, making his way back to his own quarters where he could sleep. I stormed back to my dorm to kill Sirius.

_**A/N: We all knew it was coming, and here's the moment. Quite a long chapter to make up for the infrequency, I'm sorry about that by the way, sometimes when I'm working on two things at once I'm blocked for one so I write the other. Never mind, hope you enjoyed, please review!**_


	50. Implosion

The door slammed behind me as I stormed into the dorm. Peter jerked awake from his place sitting cross legged on his bed, on his bed, slumped against a poster and drooling. He wiped the spittle off his cheek with the back of his hand and rubbed his eyes, smiling with a half-hearted greeting before noticing the expression on my face. I didn't care, I had eyes only for Sirius.

He gave me that stupid, white-toothed grin as I stomped up towards him, and it didn't falter as he noticed my expression, which made me even angrier. I saw red and, in an outburst of pent up frustration, I punched him square in that smiling face of his.

That certainly wiped the grin off his face, and it felt good.

"Wha' tuh hell, James?" Sirius asked, clutching his face and probing his cheek with his tongue, blood dripping from his gum. He looked mostly confused, but I saw that anger that so frightened me simmering beneath it. I didn't have time to be afraid of it, I was too bloody furious.

"_What, _pray tell, were you _thinking_?" I asked, giving thumping him again on the head for good measure. Sirius saw now that I had not appreciated his little joke. His eyes narrowed and darkened.

"It was just a _joke, _Jamie, get over it," he said, and though the words were light hearted his tone was dangerous, teetering on the edge of insanity.

"If _that's _your idea of a joke, _Sirius, _you've got a terrible sense of humour," I shot back, my voice steadily growing louder, closer and closer to shouting as Sirius grew more and more insolent. Sirius stood, squaring me up. He was growing taller than me, and he was more muscular, but I was agile and we were evenly matched. A physical fight would be anyone's game. His eyes were flicking around to his wand.

"You're taking this too seriously, James, that little twerp had it coming. He was following us, eavesdropping, he almost pulled you through the bloody floor for Merlin's sake! I was just giving him what he wanted, he was the one who decided to act on it," Sirius was almost shouting and there was a stirring outside, as if someone could hear and was getting up to tell us to be quiet.

"I am not taking this too seriously, you're not taking it seriously enough!" I yelled, and the rustling got louder. Suddenly, we were hit by a blaring buzzing sound which echoed through the whole room. I clasped my hands over my ears and fell to the ground, realising that it was Peter, he had cast a muffliato charm to try and make sure nobody heard because of the escalating volume, but he got nervous in these situations and the spell was poorly executed.

"BLOODY HELL, PETER, WILL YOU STOP THAT?" a twitching Peter muttered the counter-curse and my hands fell back to my sides as the buzzing stopped, panting a little. I cast my own muffliato charm for the sake of Peter's nerves, and the room was filled with a slight buzzing, barely noticeable above the din of our argument.

"I don't think you understand, Sirius, he could have _died!_ D-E-A-D."

"And then you could finally have Evans," I couldn't help it that time, my fist was flying before I had sense enough to pull it back, and it impacted with his nose with a gruesome crunch. My hand hurt as I retracted it and I eased my knuckles open to find them raw. I was not, however, in as bad a shape as Sirius, who had blood now freely gushing down his face.

"That's it, Potter," he growled, spitting at the blood which tried to flood into his mouth. He snatched up his wand and didn't even bother to fix his nose before hexing me. I felt a searing pain burn through my heart for a split second, followed by an icy cold which grew inside me from my chest, spreading, the Cold-Blood Hex.

I didn't engage, I just gave Sirius my best disappointed look as he shot spell after spell at me, deflecting the more nasty ones and sitting through the endurable ones until he tired. When finally he lowered his wand, he looked equally upset.

"You're not going to fight me," he realised.

"You're immature," I replied. He didn't say anything, he just waited for me to elaborate, but the sentiment remained ambiguous and I shook my head and said no more, ignoring his protests to know what it meant. I changed into my pyjamas as he fixed his nose and fell into bed.

"You had better hope Remus doesn't remember almost killing a fellow student tomorrow," I warned Sirius as I moved to grab my wand and extinguish the ball of light in the middle of our room which was our sole means of illumination, "he'll never live with himself if he does. _Nox._"

My previous words hung in the air as we lay in bed. _You're immature. _They held far more weight than words said in passing. They were not simply a reference to childish behaviour, but to childish selfishness and a child's natural instinct to put themselves first and think nothing of the consequences until it is scolded. Sirius' immaturity was found in his wish to hurt a boy for a reason of little validity whilst not thinking of the friend he was hurting, and of his insolence when scolded, the refusal that he had done anything wrong, both to me and to himself.

That night was a restless one. The howls from the Shrieking Shack could not be heard from our beds, but I felt my friend's cries rattle my insides as I lay awake and waited for morning, both anticipating and dreading it. I hoped that Remus would not remember, that he would return beaming and well if not a little worse for wear.

But though the thing that ran for Severus wasn't Remus, the part that held back and let him get away was. I saw a glint in its eye that was the kindness and tolerance of my friend just before the trapdoor closed, and I knew with absolute certainty that he knew.

Which, indeed, he did.

He entered the room silently, as he always did in the morning after his transformations. Madam Pomfrey had already done her work and the new gashes that lined his bare back were a ripe pink. Nonetheless, I had never seen him look more dead. His eyes were hollow as he threw himself down on the bed and leant against a poster, and I made no indication that I was awake.

As I watched through my eyelashes, the blurry shape of Remus brought his hands up and pushed his fingers through his hair and stretching out against the poster, back pressed into it and breathing deep breaths out, his fingers locked behind his head as he shook it regretfully.

Then, he lowered his hands to his eyes and began to cry.

The agonised howls of pain are often equally as painful to endure, and one coos and hushes and begs the crier to please cease for the sake not only of their ears but of their heartstrings. People dread the loud cries of the recently widowed and orphaned, the wounded who come home to find themselves alone and unable to rebuild.

But people overlook the silent tears. These tears are mostly shed in private, they are not for people. Watching these tears, for the cries are too quiet to hear, is infinitely harder than hearing the loud cries. You cannot intrude, you cannot coo and hush, you can only wait until the stifled gasps still. These tears are not for you.

Watching Remus cry hurt, it hurt more than when Malignatious hexed me, than when Spriteworth left me, than watching Lily in the mirror of Erised and knowing it wasn't real. It was so much more profound than my petty troubles. I was used to Remus being the best at concealing his troubles. Sirius' wall cracked now and then and I saw a little of what he went through, but Remus was so _strong, _he never let anyone see his pain.

But now that I was watching it, I realised how vast his pain was, how all-engulfing it threatened to become.

Remus' lips contorted and spread as he let out hisses that were his only indication of crying other than the tears themselves. They formed words I couldn't make out before stretching again into a gaping yawn to draw another breath. His whole form shook with his own self-pity and loathing as he continued to shake his head and mutter.

I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to come, my worst fears confirmed and my eyes having seen too much they would suffer no longer. Sleep came easier now, and was broken again by light streaming through a crack in the window.

"Wake up," Peter whispered, shaking me, "wake up, Defence Against the Dark Arts starts soon."

I groaned but complied and rolled out of bed, looking over to find Remus where I had left him, slumped against the poster of his bed though his face was devoid of any evidence that he had cried. Sirius had gone already, this I noted with relief.

We changed quickly and in silence before turning towards the door and grabbing our bags. Peter was gone first, exclaiming that he had to find Sirius as they were partners, which left me and Remus in the room alone. I made for the door but suddenly he was there, blocking my way.

"What happened last night?" he demanded. His voice was cold and stern. He knew what happened, I knew that from his tearful moment before, but he was testing me, wanting to see if I would tell him. I hesitated, not sure if committing myself to the truth would just hurt him further. "I saw you, James," he warned, his tone lower and more threatening.

"Sirius," I explained, and though I sighed it sounded more angry than it did disappointed, "He told Snape where you were, so he went to investigate." I peeked up at him to monitor his reaction, but he said nothing. He only nodded, grateful that I had told him the truth and yet more upset now that he knew for a fact that it was the truth, and moreover the betrayal of his best friend.

I didn't speak to Sirius the rest of that day or even that week, much to the protestation of my fellows. Remus insisted that he was fine with it, that at least nothing had happened whilst the thought of confrontation made him nervous, but I simply couldn't let it go. Sirius had shown me a side of him which was sadistic and selfish and much more like his family than I had ever permitted myself to believe he was, and I wasn't sure I could tolerate it.

Sirius himself made no attempt to apologise to me though Remus told me that he had to him and that he deeply regretted his actions. _Too little, too late, _I had thought. Though I didn't want an apology per say, I wanted some evidence that he regretted his actions, evidence he hadn't presented me with.

Snape was quieter now too. Though I knew that he despised the monster Remus was as all his Slytherin friends despised all those who were different, he kept this to himself. I was sure that his vow to Dumbledore had something to do with it, and I was grateful to the old man for it.

People began to notice the distance between Sirius and I almost immediately, having been so used to us being inseparable. Some made snide comments asking if we'd "broken up", and others tried to "help" us make up. More than once were we locked in rooms together and told we could not exit until we had gotten over our issues. The people who did this, however, were not particularly magically gifted like ourselves, and a simple _Alohamora _charm would unlock the door.

"What happened between you two?" hissed Kaise as I finished a Potions essay in our normal space by the fire, throwing her head back to gesture to Sirius, who was completing his essay on a table at the other end of the corridor and out of earshot.

I shrugged. She didn't press it.

The silence didn't last long. When a week had passed Sirius approached me, and I thought finally that he may admit that I was right and show some remorse.

"Who's immature now?" he asked to my surprise, "Stop giving me the silent treatment already and get over it. What's done is done." Though I saw his mouth form the words, I still had some difficulty believing he was saying them. How was he not apologising? Why was he not admitting he was wrong?

"What's done is done," I repeated, rolling the words over on my tongue and trying to make some sense of them. "That's not enough, Sirius."

"What the hell do you want from me?" he yelled, and for a moment I thanked Merlin we were in an empty classroom and were drawing no attention.

"How about a realisation of what you almost did to Remus?" I yelled back.

"What I _almost _did," he protested, "Nothing happened, it's fine!"

"IT'S NOT FINE!" I roared, and Sirius' mouth flew shut. There was a moment of silence before Sirius finally realised why it wasn't fine.

"It's not just about Remus, is it?" he asked and I shook my head.

"It's about all of us. You betrayed Remus to the point of possible expulsion, and what's more, had it all gone to plan he would have had the blood of someone he knew on his hands. That would break him." Sirius nodded silently and guilt crossed his face for a fleeting moment.

"I can't trust you, Sirius."

Friendships built on trust, most say, are the strongest. What people don't realise, however, is that when that trust is broken on one menial issue, the more important ones begin to topple, like pulling out the wrong piece in a Jenga puzzle. Friendships like that were the easiest to break, to self destruct. Ours was teetering on that edge.

Ours was beginning to implode.

_**A/N: Not a fun scene but it's necessary, James won't get over betrayal like that so easily, he values loyalty above all else. Hope you enjoyed this chapter though I doubt you will considering I didn't like writing it. All will be better soon. Please review, I've been missing them. **_


	51. My Greatest Fear

"And remember, just because you made the team last year, doesn't guarantee you a spot this year, all right?" asked Bella, the new team captain since Felix left last year. She was much more sensitive to the well-being of her potential players, and had chosen to make her speech at a reasonable hour and _inside _instead of making us freeze. She was quickly gaining much more favour than Felix had.

I looked around me at the hopefuls. I recognised them all from the common room if I didn't know them personally, and I spied Alice Fletcher sitting amongst them. I was on the bench with all the leftover players from last year's team. Elise and Michael flanked me, whispering over me about Michael's OWL choices. We weren't too worried about making the team, the whole affair was really just focusing on the new beaters and a seeker.

Many looked promising for the job, a few of Michael's friends who sat behind us were quite burly, some sounded like they'd already taken some bludgers to the head. The other important find would be the seeker. I wondered whether that's why Alice was here. She was slight and deft fingered- as I had witnessed with Frank.

Melissa's speech was short- again, quite unlike Felix- and we were quickly out of the locker room and into the air. Elise, Michael and I demonstrated the Chaser drills and flew side by side as we practiced throwing the ball between ourselves. She gave us knowing smiles meaning we were probably on the team.

When we, the prospective Chasers, had finished our tasks, we went and sat in the stands to watch the others. My friends weren't there to cheer me on this time, my staying on the team wasn't really a question.

We watched for the best beaters as Melissa released a rain of bludgers onto the pitch. She had announced the exercise as 'last two standing' but no one was entirely sure whether or not she was joking.

A large boy was the first to surrender. A bludger came at him full on at which point he looked around wildly to find that he was holding the bat wrong and when finally he took a swing the bat broke and the bludger only missed his head by a hair's breadth.

The pitch was too crowded with big boys and bludgers to tell who hit the diverted bludger, but whoever did hit it with incredible force and it came hurtling towards us, only narrowly missed by the next boy to exit the pitch, deciding the danger of Quidditch was much too much for his liking.

"Blimey! Whose was that?" asked Michael, wide eyed as he stared at the whizzing bludger, following it around with his entire body. Our gazes fell back to the smattering of beaters left to find one, unexpected choice being congratulated and awed. Bella flew up and shot a large Freezingnet, catching the bludgers which fell motionless to the ground.

The form on the broom was substantially smaller than expected and unmistakably female. I wasn't sexist or anything, it was just because the girls who were into Quidditch were often more interested in being anything _but _beaters. However, there were some excellent female beaters, like in the Holyhead Harpies.

Alice Fletched winked at me as she swung her bat into the air and shot up to retrieve it. I had to admit, I was thoroughly impressed and astounded. Even Bella had trouble composing herself and trying to pretend that it was still anybody's game for the position and she'd have a hard time filling it.

When we had watched all of the prospective seekers fumble for the snitch for a while, Elise, Michael and I tired and returned to the common room to wait for Bella, who still had to decide who she was picking.

We chatted for a while about the strength of this year's team, speculating at the weakness of the Slytherin team optimistically. Finally, Bella emerged through the portrait hole. She looked exhausted, but still in high spirits as she spotted us and sat down.

"So..." I began, "are we on the team?" Bella shrugged and flashed me a smile, but she left the answer ambiguous. We shared a knowing smile before pestering Bella about her other choices, all questions she ignored, and then finally decided it was time for lunch, where I rejoined my friends.

Though it had been a week since the Remus incident, the tension between Sirius and I hadn't died down. He sat a little way away by himself, shooting icy glares in my direction, more immaturity. I didn't have time for it, so I ignored him entirely, pretending he wasn't there. As the time without him had worn on, I began to realise that I missed him. Though I loved them all equally, I was closer to Sirius than my other friends. He let me in more than he did the others, and I saw every part of him, good and bad, where the others tried to mask it.

With so much free time, no longer taking time out to plan schemes with Sirius, I began engrossing myself in Quidditch and, oddly enough, my studies. I developed a new appreciation for magic, especially in Defence Against the Dark Arts, where the intoxicating Professor Ashworth was an excellent catalyst to help any straight man want to impress and all in all, do better.

It was in one of those classes which started a long chain of events which ended my painful period without my best friend.

It started with a large wardrobe which sat in the middle of the room, the desks hastily shoved to one side. The room looked better like this, more homelike, back in the times when Spriteworth was teaching. It was always so much harder to resent Professor Ashworth, however, when she strutted in with her never-ending legs.

"Good morning class," she said with a faux-sweet smile, playing with her wand between her hands, awaiting an answer. It came eagerly in the baritone chorus of the breaking voices of thirteen year old boys.

"Good morning, Professor," it chimed, masking the 'tsk's of disapproving and jealous girls.

"She's not even that pretty," Lily harrumphed beside Remus, who shrugged, but did not agree nor disagree. He remained, however, completely unaffected by her power. It was both admirable and pitiful, and when we were still friends Sirius and I had teased him, explaining that he didn't know what he was missing.

"So," Professor Ashworth said, with a slight pout to silence all the boys, the girls reluctantly following suit. "who can tell me what a boggart is?" Naturally, two hands flew up, and for a moment it seemed like a competition between Remus and Lily as to whose hand could lift higher until Lily was practically standing from her place on the floor. "Yes, Mr Lupin?" she asked with a wink. Lily looked practically ready for murder.

"A boggart is a shape shifter which takes the form of its victim's worst fear," he recited fresh from the textbook, albeit a little guiltily as he peered over at the red-faced Lily.

There was a sudden buzz throughout the room as everyone began to confess their deepest and darkest fears. The trivial ones were spoken aloud, spiders, clowns, a few who tentatively admitted 'the dark', but most of these admonitions were made by Gryffindors, people who had seen little of the true dark. The Slytherins shifted in their chairs, their faces overcast. Sirius was among them, and refused to talk.

"Now now, hush," the ensuing shushing sound ghosted over our heads and settled like an enchantment on the room so that everyone stilled, attention turning back to its rightful place, glowing on the black haired beauty. "Let's not get too worried, now shall we? What am I here for if not to teach you how to _deal _with your fears. How about you, dearie?" she pointed with a perfectly painted red fingernail and beckoned a frightened looking Sophia.

She paced nervously up the room, apprehensively fidgeting with the sleeve of her robes with one hand, clutching her wand with the other.

"Don't be worried, Miss Woodspurt, now I want you to think of what you fear most," Sophia nodded.

"Snakes," she squealed, almost cringing at the very word.

"Snakes then, now I want you to think of something funny, can you do that to me. Mr Lupin, you are a very clever young man, can you tell me what a boggart's biggest weakness is?" Lily growled as she said this, and Remus, not overcome by that need to impress which seemed to grip every other boy she directed a question to.

"I think Lily does, Miss," he conceded, and Lily, though resenting that Remus passed on the question to her, took what she could get and answered brightly;

"Laughter."

The room relaxed slightly, but not enough to stop a few hands from shaking.

"Good, very good," said Professor Ashworth, slightly ruffled by being overlooked by a male student but focusing back on the task at hand. "Well, the spell to bring on laughter is simple. Miss Woodspurt, when I release the boggart, I want you to picture that image of what makes you laugh and say _Riddikulus_,Can you do that for me?" Sophia nodded and drew in a shaky breath.

"Ok then, three, two, one, _Alohamora._"

At first nothing happened. And then we heard it, a hiss, and before to long a scaly green head poked against the wardrobe door, followed by an endless body that coiled around itself until it towered almost touching the ceiling. Beady black eyes stared with malice as a pink tongue flickered out and the head swam lower, closer to Sophia. It emitted a faint hiss and then suddenly, massive white fangs emerged and lunged.

"_Riddikulus!_" Sophia yelled, and the massive snake fell to the ground and flopped, the green of its scales suddenly a pink worm. There was a sudden outburst of relieved laughter and the worm began to writhe helplessly on the floor.

"Excellent! Excellent! Alright, up all of you, form an orderly line and let's continue!"

The class was more joyful than any one to date, and the class was in constant hysterics, which made the whole affair much harder, considering that the boggart would only become a terrifying creature worthy of attacking when we _weren't _laughing.

When Remus went, his little white orb became a cockroach. Peter's boggart had a hard time determining especially what it was that he was afraid of, and finally Peter got tired of waiting and it turned into large pink flamingo which squawked anxiously.

My heart almost broke as I watched Sirius stand shakily in the shadow of his father, crouching slightly considering the ceiling wasn't high enough for him in Sirius' estimation, disapproving and with a strong fist aimed at him. Sirius muttered a half-hearted spell, though it was enough to stifle his voice so that instead of shouting insults, he began to purr. The class laughed enough, but Sirius looked too upset for my liking.

Lily went white as the boggart fell upon her. A scarlet howler opened itself and began to yell at her. Unsurprisingly, Lily's worst fear was failure. Easily enough, she changed the insults to glowing praise before sitting down, giving Remus a satisfied high-five.

Finally it was my turn, and as arrogant as it may have seemed, I just couldn't think of anything that truly scared me. I thought of Malignatious, who sometimes plagued my dreams, but his imprisonment had been enough closure for me. I thought of Voldemort, but he was still an abstract figure in my mind. Even I had no idea what would spring at me when it came to my turn, but I kept firm in my mind the image of a Chudley Cannons' uniform.

But I could not have been prepared for what I saw.

The boggart, at the moment a mouse, sparked up at a new presence, and suddenly it took the form of my mother. I heard a snort from behind me, until someone screamed. The figure was lying down, suspended in mid-air, she was breathing or smiling, she wasn't even telling me off. She was dead.

My heart lurched at the realisation of it, and at exactly that moment the figure morphed into my father, eyes glassy, mouth half open but unable to take in any breath. Again, into Sirius, Remus, Peter, Spriteworth.

Lily.

Even though I heard her gasp from behind me, even though I knew it was her, there she lay in front of me, the picture of beauty, so bright even in the dullness of death that she outshone the falsity that was my Professor.

The room was still as I took a step towards her body. The shape didn't change again, it just lay in perfect stillness. I felt a horrible pain rocked me as I extended a hand to touch her pale cheek. Someone gasped as our skin made contact, as if she would suddenly sit up and scream like in some cheap horror film, but nothing of the sort happened. Instead, I felt a cold more freezing than a wintry night at the tips of my fingers, and suddenly tears shook me. The image changed once more, blurring shapes, all dead and cold beneath my touch.

Slowly, I felt warmth compensating the cold by my fingers. A warm hand slid up my back and I turned to find Lily's bright green eyes pricked with tears and words neither of us could say. I swallowed a lump in my throat and nodded to her, telling her I was fine. I wasn't, but she didn't need to know that.

It was then that I became acutely aware of half of the third year watching this silent exchange and I felt suddenly extremely ashamed. Professor Ashworth thought it was high-time to step in. She banished the hateful thing back to his wardrobe and ushered everyone out of the room. She couldn't even look at me as I grabbed my bag and left.

_**A/N: Sorry, I've been away for two weeks and haven't been able to post, I swear I haven't forgotten you! So, I couldn't think what James would be scared of, he's too arrogant to be properly afeared in my mind, but I suppose death itself, something over which he has no control and that will have such a devastating affect on his life was quite fitting. It also shows in a way the man that Harry was that James could never be, the man who was ready to die.**_

_**I hope you enjoyed the chapter, I love this part in book three anyway. Please review with your own ideas of what James could have been afraid of so I could kick myself up the arse! **_


	52. It's Worse For Us

I shrugged off Remus and Peter as I left the classroom as they ran to offer condolences. They understood when I didn't turn round that I wanted to be alone, and simply went in a different direction. When they were out of sight, I turned off down a corridor and followed my feet blindly until I came across and empty nook behind a suit of armour. Looking around tentatively to check nobody was around, I ducked into it and threw down my bag beside me, curling my knees to my chest.

I sank deep into my thoughts until I was quite dumb to the outside world. The image of Lily's cold, dead face was burned into my memory and I couldn't quite shake it, no matter how much I tried to squeeze my eyes shut and mask it with darkness. She was alive, I kept telling myself, and she wasn't going to die any day soon.

But I couldn't quite convince myself, the _Daily Prophet _had spent the last few weeks convincing me otherwise. The death tolls took up the whole back page, and endless morbid list of names of muggle-borns, all killed at the hands of Voldemort or one of his followers. I shuddered at the thought of him, of what he'd done, of what he could do. My precious Lily, so vibrant in death as she was in life, such a thing could be made a reality by his merciless hand. Hot rage swept through me at the thought with force enough it almost helped me forget for a second or two what I'd seen.

But when I remembered, I was greeted with more mortification. Everyone had seen. All knew my worst fear. All knew it was death.

Lily's death.

Surely by now Kaise would be receiving an earful, and I knew already that our odd relationship, more like a friendship with the odd kiss and very little intimacy, was now over. That would be the second relationship of mine ended because of Lily Evans.

I sat for a long while in the nook, somewhat afraid to leave, unwilling to face Kaise and her probable wrath. How would I explain to her? _I like you, really I do, only I love Lily. Sorry. _It was a bit weak, in all fairness. I spent the rest of the time sitting steeling myself for the affair, until my stomach began to protest against its lack of sustenance and I looked at my watch to find it was lunchtime already.

I stood abruptly and jumped as I realised there was a figure a little taller than I standing much too close. I jumped out of the way instinctively, feeling a shock run through my veins as I tried to reorientate myself. The figure turned out to be Sirius', though he looked as if he had just been passing through and not waiting specifically for me to stand. He, too looked shock.

As he noticed my expression, he opened his mouth to speak, and not in the mood to silence him I made no motion to stop him or leave.

"It's worse for us, he always said," Sirius began, and I looked at him with confusion, "My Uncle Alphard, that is. He always said that death was worse for us than it is for them, which in a way should make it better for us, right?" My frown deepened as I tried to work through the jumbled up sentence that Sirius had phrased whilst walking on eggshells, trying as best he could not to cause another argument. He cleared his throat and tried a third time.

"Death is always better for the deceased than for the mourners, 'cause they're dead and all, it doesn't matter to them, they're in a better place if you believe in that stuff," he shrugged, "but it's worse for us, 'cause we'll miss them. But if you think about it, they're all right, in that better place, so really we should just be happy for them." He looked up quickly, as if to replay the statement in his head and make sure it made sense, then nodded satisfied.

I didn't answer him, but I nodded thanks at his consoling words. It had actually made me feel better, but of course it had. Sirius always knew exactly how to make me feel better. He gave me a weak smile and then walked off, and I walked back to the lunch hall to face Kaise.

Her head turned slowly to acknowledge me as I came to sit down, and I didn't bother to smile or feign misunderstanding at her narrowed eyes. I sighed as I sat down opposite her.

"I guess we have to talk," I said, leaning over to serve myself some sausages. She was clearly not impressed by my choice to eat during and important conversation, but considering we were breaking up anyway, she didn't penalize him.

"We don't have to talk, James," she said calmly, a sentiment which I had not expected, "I always understood that Evans would break us up eventually, I just hoped that you would make a move on her or something." I opened my mouth slightly for a second, stunned, before closing it and frowning, unsure of what to say.

Sophia had yelled and snogged Gabe Kramer, she tried her hardest to tear me to pieces, she hoped I would be miserable. Kaise just smiled at me politely and shrugged. "It was nice doing business with you, Mr Potter," she said matter-of-factly and slid back to me the clipping from our prank competition.

"You too, Miss Sommerson," I said, and with a quick summoning charm I slid it back beside hers. _James is always Sirius about his games, _and _Where the Summer Sun sets, _lay side by side for a moment, before Kaise pulled hers back and I took back my own.

"I could have loved you, you know, if we were older, given time," I said softly, so nobody else could hear. She shook her head sadly, the only admittance of any negative feelings about our splitting.

"No, you wouldn't have. Not really, not with all that Lily to love," she said, but it wasn't bitter, it was kind. I smiled at her weakly, knowing there was little else to say, and that this was the end of our mutual pranking. I felt a slight hollowness of remorse as she slid away from me on the bench to be with her consoling friends, knowing that I know had now lost two good friends.

I missed Kaise the moment she was gone, realising a fondness I had not recognised when she was still near me. I missed her easy conversation. I missed how bold she was, never afraid to speak her mind. Sadly I realised, however, that this was always the intention, to make a girl jealous, not to become eternal lovers. Our relationship, if you even could call such a thing that lacked intimacy, had an expiration date.

Plus, there was the Evans factor. There would always be the Evans factor. It was at that point specifically that I gave up trying, because if it wasn't Evans, it was nothing. Any girl who I might actually like would just eventually notice that they could never compete with Lily Evans.

It was Lily or nothing.

And so was the birth of my constant bombardment of Lily Evans.

The first time I asked her out was quite inconveniently right before the first quidditch match of the season, Slytherin-Gryffindor. Whilst I was mid-air.

It was a good day for Quidditch, cloudy so that the sun didn't get in our eyes, dark enough that we weren't hit by a glare but not heavy enough that we were going to rain. I had found recently that I needed my glasses more often now, and I put them on, deciding that it wouldn't rain and they wouldn't fog up. When people asked, I always told them that I wasn't a seeker because of my eyesight.

"That tiny thing? I can barely read my homework assignments most of the time!" I would say with a broad smile before Sirius would punch me in the arm.

"That's just what he tells teachers so that he gets out of doing it," he would say disappointedly, and our enrapt audience would laugh as Sirius and I put on the grand spectacle that was our friendship. I looked for him in the stands as I waited nervously in the changing room for the game to start.

"Still nervous there, Potter?" asked Michael as he came and joined me to peer out. "Would have thought nerves would have worn off with that arrogance of yours." I laughed in good humour but I still couldn't shake the apprehension. I searched for my lucky charm. She was sitting next to Remus, giggling, her red hair so at home in its complimenting yellow.

"... here comes GRYFFINDOR!" yelled Davey down the microphone, and Bella ushered us out and onto our brooms soaring along the pitch. As we did so, Davey read off the roster. "Alright folks, you already know half the team. Our chasers this year are the same, St Claire, Nixon, Potter, the keeper and new team captain is Spruce, but the shock of the season is the new beater, still under five foot, Alice Fletcher! She is joined by Markus Korvitch and the new seeker is lightning fast Patrick Flynn, the transfer from the Boy's Wizarding Academy in Ireland, give them all a cheer!" The crowd erupted into cheers so loud that Davey's final words were completely drowned out. As we took our customary lap around the pitch, however, I stopped short where I saw the scarlet hair, bobbing up and down.

"Hey Evans," I yelled nonchalantly.

"James!" she replied, breathless and confused. From behind me I heard Bella shouting at me, and I knew I had little time.

"Go out with me?" I asked with a sly smile. She looked frantically from me to the rest of the pitch, full of my teammates beckoning me over. At first she seemed confused, then momentarily flattered, and then most definitely angry.

"I most certainly will not when you embarrass me in front of the entire school!" she began yelling, her cheeks steadily turning violet as she began to try to cover up her shock, shouting crude things. I was gone before I could hear her finish it off, shrugging and flying back into position as she continued to yell into the air.

The minority quarter of the crowd which supported Slytherin then took their own turn to applaud their team. Though a smaller amount, they increased their noise with booming, snake shaped fireworks and amplifying charms.

We hadn't yet had the chance to see our opponents, as none of our scouts could get near this year, so as they took their lap this was our chance to get a good look. Most of Vanity's thugs hadn't left yet, so they were still on the team, but this time with a new, slighter addition.

"And of course their seeker, Regulus Black," I started as I saw the Nimbus 1001 streaking past me. _Sirius' _Regulus? Why hadn't he told me.

Oh yeah.

I remember watching Regulus on his new Cleansweep last Christmas whilst I had used the old 140. He had learnt from his mistake and gotten used to this one, so that broom and rider were one, flying together smoothly. He no longer handled it with heavy hands, he knew what he was doing, and my affinity with my own broom was no longer as much of an advantage. I settled into my seat as the game began. It would be more difficult than Felix's ingenuity last year.

The match went as well as our last one did with Slytherin. The new players took well to the 'Felix Method' as we had affectionately called it, the pirouettes and flourishes which made Vanity's thugs look like animals. We were soon fifty points up with no sign of them catching up and _this _time, we hadn't lost any players.

But the game was short lived, as Quidditch games end with the catching of the snitch.

We were almost through twenty minutes, sixty-ten, when Davey Gudgeon picked up on the jaunty flying of Rick and Regulus, the two seekers. Clearly one had seen the snitch, but they both flew so close it was hard to tell who. The other, whoever hadn't seen it first, had caught on and they were flying neck-in-neck, so close that the competition became not how fast you were but how long you could stretch.

Rick was a good flyer, visible because of his blur of bright ginger hair. He and his broom had clearly been acquainted for a long time, and though old it moved with his every turn with admirably fluidity. Moreover, the boy could fly in more positions that just the conventional, and as the gaping audience watched he had shuffled forward until he perched on the very end of his broom. Then, he leant forward even further, navigating it with his hips and stretching out his arms.

Beside him, Regulus looked worried and his flying grew frantic. He drove the broom forward with all his might, leaning down so that his chin touched the end and stretching his arm out. When even this was futile and Rick had almost clutched the little winged ball, Regulus turned from frantic to drastic, and instead of going forward drove far to the right, smashing into Rick, smashing his broom in the process, knocking him off balance.

Rick flew from his seat and went flying into the ground ten feet below. He landed on his arm with a horrid _crunch._

_**A/N: 100 reviews that's fantastic! Thanks for all of you who got me this far, I SERIOUSLY appreciate it and love you all so much, without you this wouldn't exist. **_

_**I wanted a Quidditch match but not a long one, just to let you know Regulus is seeker. Also, this is the beginning of the James/Lily conflict you've all been hoping for and I was bored of Kaise. Hope you enjoyed and do review for me. **_


	53. Matters Of Opinion

The game was over with an abrupt Gryffindor defeat and we were on the ground again, running to our injured seeker. He lay in a mess of ginger hair and a broken broom beside him, his arm beneath him was a right mess. It jutted out awkwardly from its rightful socket and in many places bone protested against skin so that it almost poked through. I felt my stomach lurch and looked immediately away, thanking the lord that he was out cold so I wouldn't have to deal with his screams as well.

Alice landed next to me and threw her bat down on the ground, running to the boy with much healthier legs than Madam Pomfrey, getting there first. She grimaced and took hold of his arm and shoulder, and with a massive exertion of force slammed his shoulder back into place. It locked with a _crick. _

Next, she set about setting his arm, tenderly feeling for the bone underneath and righting the bone into a straight line so that it was no longer visible through his pale skin. Most of the players looked away as she did this, wincing at each crunch, but even the Slytherins looked impressed.

"James," she said suddenly, and I looked back at her to find her holding the arm together, her hand covered in blood from a long gash left by a protruding bone which had now found its rightful place. I gagged but nodded. "Pass me my bat and your shirt."

"My what?" I asked incredulously, almost afraid to open my mouth lest I throw up all over her.

"Your shirt, Potter, quickly!" I nodded, taking it off and throwing it to her along with the bat. I looked around me to find that nobody else had offered to relinquish their shirts, and realised that I was the only one she knew, the only one who knew well enough to trust her. Madam Pomfrey had joined the group now and leaned on Rick's other side, lifting his head to check for damage.

Alice in the meantime had ripped my shirt to shreds and was using the long strips to attach his arm to her bat on one side, a long part of the broken neck of his broom on the other to form a makeshift splint. Finding nothing externally, Madam Pomfrey took the rest and placed it under his head. She gestured to the stunned Slytherin beaters, who nodded and lifted him onto the stretcher they hadn't noticed had appeared, taking him to the hospital wing.

As they hoisted the thing up there was a groan from the stretcher.

"What happened?" Rick asked disorientated.

"You were knocked from your broom, we're getting you to the hospital wing now but you have to hold still or Madam Pomfrey can't fix your arm right," she said in an even voice, "don't worry, if you stay still it should only take a spell."

"Did we win?" he asked, disheartened.

"Let's just focus on you getting better," Alice answered with a sad, forced smile as they disappeared off the pitch, heading to the castle. When I turned back the pitch was chaos. The Slytherins had all gone to congratulate their star seeker on his performance, whereas the Gryffindors were storming on to protest the violence. At their forefront was Sirius, eyes boring holes into his little brother.

When the Gryffindor crowd descended on the Slytherins, Regulus was thrown rather unceremoniously down onto the ground and landed right in front of his brother, who immediately pushed him to the ground. I was close enough to hear their conversation.

"What are you doing, Reg?" asked Sirius through gritted teeth. Regulus threw himself back to his feet and shoved Sirius right back. Though Sirius was tall they stood at equal height.

"Just winning a Quidditch match, Sirius, if you'll kindly get out of my way," he said haughtily, though his voice was laced with a threatening tone. Sirius didn't budge, neither did Regulus, and they stood facing each other for quite some time before Sirius spoke again, after casting a glance around.

"I thought we weren't gonna do any of this, not in Hogwarts," he growled. Regulus' eyes darkened.

"Any of what, Siri?" he teased, but again the threat resurfaced. "Hurting your little friends? Oh that's right, you promised to take the brunt of it for them didn't you?" Sirius looked around again to check if anyone had noticed, and locked eyes momentarily with me. I shot a questioning look at him quickly but he ignored it, turning back to glare at his brother like he never saw me. "I guess you shouldn't trust a Death Eater to keep his promises next time," Regulus said.

"You're not a Death Eater." Sirius protested with heartbreaking conviction, all he wanted was for his brother to not be like the rest of his family, and yet before his eyes he was morphing into one of them.

"Not yet, but I will be," he said with an ironic chuckle, and at his words with no warning Sirius suddenly had his wand out and Regulus was hurtling across the pitch, landing stunned in a heap a few meters away. Whatever other racket was being made stopped instantaneously as everybody turned to the one bearing the wand.

"BOY!" a yell ripped through the pitch as through the waning crowd marched the formidable Orion Black, a dark expression on his face as he made his way to his least-favorite son. Sirius shrank in his shadow. This was no boggart, he could not laugh it back into a wardrobe. "_Expelliarmus._" The spell was said so coldly hearts froze right in their bodies as Sirius' wand clattered to the ground. The remaining students scattered, Peter and Remus were nowhere to be seen. The only people left were me, Regulus, Sirius and Orion. I backed up so that I was less noticeable and sat in the stands, unwilling to leave my friend completely to the mercy of his father and brother, even if we were in the middle of some stupid fight.

"Now explain to me, _boy,_" his father began, projecting for an imaginary audience, "why you attacked your brother?" he gestured to Regulus who was staggering to his feet, wiping dirt off his Quidditch kit. Sirius mumbled something I couldn't hear from where I sat, something Orion wouldn't stand for. Such scenes of his had to be performed with a measure of bravado, and his voice took on a theatricality. He didn't like it when his insolent son wouldn't play along. To express this, he struck him in the stomach, sending Sirius to his knees, winded. I made to stand but crouched again, he didn't need me yet.

"What was that again?" Orion asked, putting a hyperbolic hand to his ear, "I couldn't hear you." Sirius stood in answer.

"You promised," he spat, "the both of you did. You'd leave the violence out of Hogwarts," Sirius came from a thick voice, and were followed by an onslaught of coughing. "If I..." he continued, but fell back to his knees coughing again. I saw red on his fist as he drew it away, but I would not come to his rescue, not yet. I needed to hear what they had to say first.

"Oh yes, our agreement," Orion chortled to his son, who laughed half-heartedly with him. "No hurting your little frendy-wendys as long as Regulus here could use _you _as target practice instead. But I must say, Sirius, some of them are asking for it. A buffoon, a werewolf and a troublemaker, all people undeserving of magic in the eyes of the Dark Lord, wouldn't you say?" Regulus eagerly nodded his agreement, but Sirius only glowered at him.

"They are three of the best people I know," Sirius shot back defiantly, "and you will not hurt _them, _or anybody else in this school."

"Oh of course not," Orion laughed again, a laugh which chilled every bone in my body. I shivered at the baritone. "Nobody else, only you." With that, he raised his wand and before I knew it I was standing.

"_Stupefy!_" I yelled, sending Regulus down to the ground for a second time.

"_Serpensortia Multus!_" Orion shot back, releasing a rain of snakes onto both me and his son. A dozen immediately attacked Sirius, who was reaching for his wand, desperately hissing bits of Parseltongue he had heard from sketchy relatives, to no avail.

I cast a Freezing net quickly, as Bella had done with the bludgers, then ran to Sirius to survey the damage. There were a few scratches but no bites. I thanked my stars before turning back to Orion whilst Sirius grabbed his wand and battled with his legs to stand.

"Potter," he said, looking oddly pleased to see me. He extended a hand, "We were just talking about you." I didn't take it, so he withdrew it and the cold air returned to his manner. He looked at me with darkened eyes. "Did nobody teach you to treat your elders with respect?" he spat, raising his wand, which immediately flew from his hand into that of someone behind me.

"That's quite enough terrorizing the children, Orion. The match is over, I think Walburga will be wanting you back." Dumbledore suddenly stood by my side, his wizened, kind face disintegrating the fear I felt for Orion's, the very opposite.

"I'm not done here, Albus."

"Oh, but I think you are. Sirius here has to take care of that bite on his wrist he's been covering up to look brave, don't you, Sirius?" he asked, and Sirius nodded, sighing and taking his hand off his wrist. The bite was on the side of his arm and swelling by the second, turning an angry purple.

"You will not tell my son what to do," Orion protested. "Sirius, you will stay here and continue our discussion-"

"I'm afraid," Dumbledore interrupted, "that I really must insist he get that seen to. Sirius is on my grounds, he must do as I say." With that he waved Sirius off and he stood gratefully, clutching his wrist again and racing to the hospital wing to join Rick and probably the rest of the Quidditch team.

Orion scowled as his son disobeyed him, scampering off, and stepped angrily forward to Dumbledore, shooting daggers at him. Dumbledore stood his ground with the same kind, placid look on his face.

"He's _mine,_" Orion said. "the moment he steps off the grounds of this school, he is mine again. And I can do whatever I want to him." Dumbledore, though allowing Orion the dignity of the last word, still seemed to have won this particular battle. The words were words of defeat as Orion stalked off to go home.

"You have a brave friend," Dumbledore said to the air where Orion had stood, the statement meant for me, "to live with a man like that and take it without complaint. But he is a boy nonetheless." I nodded, understanding, and watched as Dumbledore made his way back to the castle until it was only me and Regulus left.

"What do you want, Potter?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at me.

"I watched them hurt you." I told him simply. "You know what pain feels like. Why do you want to do it to him?" Conflict fleeted across Regulus' expression for a moment before he shook it away and regained that cool, blank one he wore when he watched his brother tortured.

"Pain makes us stronger."

"Pain breaks people."

"That's a matter of opinion," he argued, but I could still see somewhere in some darkened corners of him that still small voice, crying against the cold creature he was turning into, crying for his brother. I shook my head and turned away to leave him alone on the Quidditch pitch, heading to the Hospital wing to reconcile my argument over loyalty with the most secretly loyal man I had ever met.

_**A/N: Told you the fight wouldn't last long. I love writing about the Blacks, they're so messed up it's wonderful. I mean, I hate every last one of them (except for the rebels of course) but they're interesting to write. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, more'll be coming your way! Do review, won't you?**_


	54. Black Venom

The hospital wing was silent. I expected some noise, what with the entire Quidditch team present and fawning over our fallen seeker, but Rick's bed was not the one being surrounded. As I ran to confirm what I already knew, my steps in heavy trainers echoed uncomfortably loudly throughout the room.

When finally I reached my destination, I was faced with a grim sight. Sirius lay in the bed, cold sweat pricked his forehead and his skin had taken on a greenish-yellowish tint. His head lolled to one side and he drooled slightly. Pouring over his right arm sat Madam Pomfrey with a pair of tweezers, apparently removing the fangs which seemed to have been lodged in there. With her head in the way I couldn't see the bite, but I imagined that same purple, probably worse.

Remus and Peter had clearly followed the Quidditch crowd who weren't involved in the brawl, and had escaped Madam Pomfrey's shooing when their best friend was admitted on quivering legs. They stood by his bed know with matching worried expressions. Beside Madam Pomfrey, Alice was watching intently, passing her swabs and things when necessary.

"I don't think this will be enough, Alice," Madam Pomfrey said with a sigh of exhaustion, "even if I get the fangs, the poison is spreading too quickly. Please, run and get Professor Slughorn." Alice nodded.

"I'll go with her!" piped up Frank Longbottom, who I only then noticed was behind me and had been lurking near Alice for a while now, I had noticed, trying to find a reason to talk to her. Alice flashed him a smile and then beckoned him over, and the two took off, streaking down the corridor to find the potions master.

I turned away from my friend's pale face, his sickly colouring too similar to that of the dead-Sirius the boggart had presented me with. Rick was on my other side, straining to get a peek through the crowd and see how he was doing. The boy was in a number of our classes, including Care of Magical Creatures, and felt genuine concern.

"'S he doing alright?" he asked, trying to prop himself up on his arm to see but wincing at the pain and falling back into bed. Clearly there was no time to spare to fix his arm.

"It doesn't look so good," I replied, shaking my head. Rick made a kind of sympathetic tutting noise and grimaced.

"Comin' to my rescue, was he?"

"All our rescues," I replied distantly, and though Rick thought I was talking cryptically about the team as a whole or something along those lines, but I knew better. I looked over my shoulder, to Remus- the werewolf, Peter- the buffoon, myself- the blood traitor and trouble maker, all people quite undeserving of magic in the eyes of the Dark Lord.

I cast a glance further, and found myself surrounded by similar misfits, the crippled and unwell, the blood traitors and trouble makers and muggle borns and buffoons, all adorned in the scarlet and yellow of their beloved house, the house of the enemy. All these people were hit, bashed with hex and curse, but none felt the pain. They were unaware of their bitten savior.

At that moment, the doors burst open and Slughorn was in the room, vials tinkling in his hands and the grasping arms of Frank and Alice, trying desperately not to drop them. He politely excused Madam Pomfrey for further expert hands. He studied the arm for a moment before calling for something unpronounceable from Frank.

"The what?" he asked, fumbling with the bottles.

"For goodness sakes! The small one with the viscous green liquid! Hurry now," he beckoned and Alice plucked it out of his grip and handed it into his open palm. She had laid her bottles out on the bedside table and ushered Frank over to help him do the same. They handed him vials by description until finally the purple was fading to a sickly yellow and his skin faded back to white.

He was by no means better, but apologetically Slughorn assured us that the venom was neutralised and that there was nothing further he could do about the little that had already taken affect. He wouldn't wake up for days, maybe a week. He'd look this pale for longer. I knew what Sirius would say, he would be happy to miss a week of school and homework. He would smile and wink and say that I'd better take notes for him, not that he'd read them but it would make me do more work.

But Sirius was unconscious.

With that knowledge, I couldn't stay in the infirmary any longer. The place was stifling, so full of memory of injury and the sickness of my best friends, both Sirius and Remus frequented this place. I didn't want to be here anymore.

Following Slughorn's lead, I slipped in through the door behind him as it swung shut and walked, with no clear direction. I was following something I trusted, no full knowledge of what it was, but when finally my feet stopped I found myself outside, on a crisp Autumn day, staring at Lily Evans.

She was giggling with Snivellus, the two of them sharing those few moments they had now and then, less often now. The moments when they were Severus and Lily, not Slytherin and Gryffindor, or Half-Blood and Muggle-born. The two were crunching fallen auburn leaves beneath their feet, relishing the sound.

I watched Lily. Amidst the red and orange hues of Autumn she fit perfectly, the joy and beauty of her hair immortalised in the colour of those leaves of similar tints. Her laughter was caught by them, emitted in every satisfying crunch. She moved to each in an entrancing dance, twisting and pirouetting with pointed toes, leaping to acorns eagerly before jumping back to the leaves. With a burst of excitement she gasped and bent down to pick up something she had seen hidden behind a leaf now shifted by the wind so all would be revealed for her.

She straightened with a bluebell in her hand, marveling at the drooping trophy of blues and purples, taking a sniff before spinning delightedly, clutching it in one hand, showing it to the decidedly less graceful Snivellus, who smiled at it and closed his eyes. Lily opened her palm and suddenly the thing was in the air, floating high above their heads.

I was leaning on a pillar, looking in on one of those rare moments one sees in life, when we aren't waiting for things to start or end, when we're living. Right then, Lily was life, and watching her with Snivellus made me feel so incredibly dead. I knew I needed her, I needed her to make my heart beat again, to make me want to breathe. Watching her was enough for life, but not living. To live I needed her in my arms, I needed her on my lips, I needed her in my heart.

The fact that Snivellus had that, all that, the fact that he was wasting dancing and picking flowers, all the while thinking contemptuously of her muggle background like the rest of his house, made me hate him. He _had _her, albeit not like either of us wanted, but she didn't despise him nearly as much as she despised me, and so how could he waste it?

The bluebell fell at my feet, completely forgotten by its previous owners, and stooped over to pick it up. When I got back to the common room, I would press it in my Defence textbook and saved the fragile thing, pressed at the pinnacle of beauty, until the day I died. She never knew of it, but the flower stayed with me throughout all that time. When she gave birth to you, I put in under the mattress in your cot. She was life, and the flower was a reminder of that. It was her life that she gave for you, Harry. Her life that she gave _to _you.

But I'm rambling aren't I?

The rest of the day was tiresome, as undeserved commiserations often are. I went to bed early, but the room was empty without Sirius. None of us spoke about him, we tiptoed around the subject carefully, still unsure whether or not I had forgiven him. I knew, but out of courtesy the others didn't ask.

The time without Sirius was dull, drained of colour without his vibrant addition to our sullen trio. Before, when he had been shunned, his presence could still be felt, though further away, he was still in contact with Remus and I suspected Peter, though the two didn't particularly like each other very much. Now that he was most assuredly gone for a while to come, he was much more sorely missed.

Hence the news that he was awake jolted us back into colour again. Upon receiving a message from Madam Pomfrey that he was up and asking from us a week later, we were racing down the halls to see him.

He was a right sight, his hair greasy from a week's worth of fevers and sponge-baths. He was still pale, but his silver eyes were open and smiling as best they could at us, considering how awful he was feeling. When he saw me amongst the ranks, however, he seemed almightily pleased.

"Y'alright?" I asked, concerned. Sirius smiled.

"Better now." No more words were shared on the matter, at least, not in public. I couldn't explain to him that I knew what his family did to him, not with Madam Pomfrey hovering so close, and we were so close there was no need for explicit 'I forgive you's, we just knew. I knew I could trust him, and he knew that trust had been regained, without the exchange of petty words we were finally friends again.

We didn't stay long, Madam Pomfrey didn't allow long stays for people as sick as Sirius was.

"I'll see you soon," I said meaningfully, and Sirius nodded meaningfully back.

"Soon," he agreed.

When the clock struck eleven that night and all was dark, I threw on my cloak and crept down to see Sirius again. Remus and Peter were both asleep, and Peter was snoring so loudly that the shuffling sound of me leaving the bedroom was practically completely drowned out.

Sirius was awake in his bed and waiting for me when I arrived. Madam Pomfrey was already in bed, so I was safe. I pulled off the cloak and crept up to Sirius' bed, where he was waiting. Sirius cut right to the chase.

"What did you hear?" he asked. "What did my dad tell you?"

"You took that beating, over the summer and all, you took it to save us didn't you?" Sirius nodded gravely, and his hands twitched slightly, as if he was about to check old wounds but decided against it.

"They play games, you know, the group we found in the library. They like games. Most of them are played alone, but some..." I held up a hand as I heard Sirius' voice crack. He didn't want to talk about it, he was only speaking as much as he did because he felt he owed me something, but I was happier when he didn't sound so tortured.

"So you made a deal," I ushered him on.

"Yes, a deal. To spare you and the boys and everyone else. They wanted target practice..." Sirius stopped again in a coughing fit which turned swiftly to retching. The poison had clearly affected him badly. His skin was growing rapidly greener in the dim moonlight.

"Should I get Madam Pomfrey?"

"No, it's fine. I won't throw up, if I do I've performed spells in worse conditions." I didn't want to think about the conditions so I smiled weakly in encouragement.

"Alright then, you should sleep," I said abruptly and Sirius smiled.

"I missed you, James."

"I missed you too."

And with that, he was asleep and I was gone.

_**A/N: Maybe it was a bit of an abrupt chapter but it's 11pm here and I want this chapter done already. Nobody on FanFic's professional anyway- except E.L. James, but this isn't mummy porn. Hope you enjoyed part of it, more on its way! Review even if you didn't like it! **_


	55. The Game

Rick had his arm in a sling for the entire week after his accident, despite the fact Madam Pomfrey had very much assured him that his bones were as good as new. As long as he had it on, people remembered the brutal blow he had taken for his team, his heroism was immortalised in the strip of fabric which hung around his neck. In the meantime, to my annoyance, Sirius' own heroism had remained unsung as he lay in the hospital wing, growing restless with each passing sunrise.

I realised how much this annoyed me. People put so much respect into the seeker, even in this case the seeker who _lost_. The chasers did just as much, more even. They had to be on the ball all the time, and I had already proven that you didn't have to catch the snitch to win the match.

Therefore, the more I saw Rick idolised, the more irritated I became. Instead of snapping however, and making myself undesirable to the many sudden female Quidditch fans, this resulted in my taking out my anger with mutterings and snide remarks under my breath. Most were left unnoticed, but one tut was caught.

It was in Care of Magical Creatures, and Professor Kettleburn was rambling about Blast Ended Skrewts with much enthusiasm. After my previous dealings with the repulsive creatures, I kept far from the ashen-shelled things I saw before me. Instead I hung back where Rick was chatting to some girls on one side, Snivellus and Avery on the other.

"Yeah, it was really scary, but I just _had _to get the snitch, y'know? So I dove for it an'..." he lifted his perfectly-fine arm as if to say _exhibit A. _It was at that moment I tutted and shook my head, rolling my eyes in dismay at the arrogance someone can gain from only one week of limelight.

"Think we can do better, Potter?" a snide voice spat from the other side. Snivellus, I knew. It could only be.

"I could be a seeker if I wanted to." I shot back, "Chasers are more important," Snivellus chuckled softly, more to annoy me than because he was genuinely amused. I felt anger well up inside me. Snivellus was not the one to chuckle condescendingly, that was _my _job. I lifted my chin decidedly and spoke to him in an even tone. I would not allow him to get to me, I swore to myself.

"Is that so?" he asked, trying to provoke me. I nodded my head and felt the anger flare again as he gave Avery a bemused look.

"It is, only being a Chaser requires actual skill, I wouldn't expect you to understand," Snivellus paused for a moment struggling for a response. I smiled, pleased to call it a win in my favour, and began to walk forward and intergrate myself back into the class, when he whispered something I was still just enough in earshot to hear.

"I reckon the same goes for the seeker." I was about to turn around and hex him when suddenly I heard my name and turned reluctantly back to face the front.

"James!" I raised my eyebrows in response to Professor Kettleburn, "what is so remarkable about the shell of Skrewts such as these?" he asked. I sighed. Their bloody shells were the same reason I had had to clean out their tanks for a year.

"They are impervious to most magic," I answered and Professor Kettleburn nodded delightedly, as if he were getting through to one of his most troublesome students. My answer still echoed in my mind. The same was not true for Severus Snape.

Lunch was soon after, and taking advantage of the last of the Autumn sunshine before the frost came around, most of us took our plates outside and sat on the grass by the black lake. Remus, Peter and I found shelter underneath a tree which was slowly undressing, ridding itself of its out-of-season, browned garments. They fell occasionally around us as we ate, some whipped up by wind into small cyclones by our feet.

"That one there reckons he's a seeker," I heard someone drooling as a shadow passed over my face. I looked up to see Snivellus and his little friends, blocking the sunshine. I felt annoyed by his dredging up of a forgotten subject and compelled to hex him, but something stopped me. A desire to prove him wrong.

"Seeker's a coward's position," I answered, casting a glare over at Regulus who's ears had pricked up at the conversation. He and Cissy had been talking animatedly, now the two stopped.

"Say that again, Potter," came Regulus' voice as he stood. Now we were officially outnumbered, Snivellus and his two goons and Regulus against me, Peter and Remus. Four against three. Four against two actually- I rarely counted Peter. He squealed beside me as Regulus joined Snivellus and his friends. I felt a creeping apprehension as he did so. Snivellus was mine, but Regulus wasn't. I couldn't just bully him too. My eyes flew to his forearm, worrisome about what might be there.

"Seekers are cowards," I replied defiantly, not allowing him to see my fear, "you fly around outside the thick of it, hoping you don't get a bludger to the head before you catch your precious ball."

"You couldn't catch a snitch in your dreams,"

"You'd be surprised," Remus and Peter were both uneasy, feeling the slightest hints of a challenge begine to arise.

"Oh yeah?" Regulus cocked an eyebrow. "Willing to prove it?" I blew out a sigh, as if I were considering it, as if I really felt I had nothing to prove. Peter and Remus seemed to relax a little when I didn't answer right away, but then I smiled.

"What did you have in mind?"

The time was set for after dinner, before curfew, on the Quidditch pitch. They would bring the snitch, I would bring the skills. Remus and Peter spent the rest of the day trying to talk me out of it, but they knew it was to no avail. I did not give in, especially not to some Slytherins.

It got dark early in October. By the time I was out the sun had already set and the sky was the odd grey of dusk, as if the blue of the sky was gone but the light hadn't quite yet realised that it was its turn to depart. I had brought my glasses, despite the fact they probably gave the Slytherins something more to jeer about. The visibility wasn't great out here already, forget the fact my eyesight was steadily waning.

It seemed the word of my showdown with the now-infamous Regulus Black had spread, as just after I arrived the stands began to fill with nervous and excited second and third years, most from the rivaling houses involved. I rumpled my hair at the sight of them, wanting oddly to look like I cared much less than I actually did.

Finally, when the stands were as full as they were ever going to be and the light was almost diminished, Regulus emerged from wherever he had been hiding all this time, Snitch in a gloved hand. Flesh memories, after all. That would ensure there was no cheating in this game. It was also a waste of a precious Snitch and would probably sprout an inquiry, but nobody took that into account when the game was so fun to watch.

The rules were simple, first to catch the Snitch wins. Anything goes, wands allowed.

Regulus was wearing a full robe which flapped in the chilling Autumn breeze, lined with a bright green which appeared in intervals when his robe flitted into the air momentarily, each time a member of the small audience whooping. I, on the other hand, was dressed rather plainly in my jeans and heavy jumper, a Gryffindor scarf wrapped around my neck was the only way the gathered could tell what team I was on.

"Ready?" Regulus asked with a twisted smile, gripping his gleaming broom in one hand, wand in the other. My own, freshly waxed, polished and trimmed, looked like an even match as we stared each other down. I nodded. With a dramatic gesture, he raised his hand into the air, savouring the moment as the gathered took a breath in in unison, and let go.

The Snitch hovered for a moment, and then zoomed off into the darkness into of the Quidditch pitch. All was silent till the count of ten, shared in the minds of all, and then together we both mounted our brooms and were off.

I pulled my wand out immediately and muttered _Lumos, _tucking it under my arm and clutching my broom again as I shot around the pitch, looking for that telltale glint of gold. In the meantime, Regulus did the same.

I began with jerky movements almost immediately, imitating as best I could the flight patterns of a Snitch. Some who thought they were clever caught on and pointed towards me, half disappointed that the game would be over so soon, with Regulus having no idea that I had even seen the thing, but those who had watched out techniques more carefully would realise that I had not yet seen the Snitch at all, and was trying to catch Reg's attention.

It worked, as I soon felt a tug from behind me. I looked around to see Regulus awfully far away, and at too long a distance to manage to reach me. It wasn't him who was tugging me, it was something at my neck. With increasing panic I realised that something was cutting off my air supply, yanking me this way and that. I was nno longer flying irratically of my own accord, I was being forced.

With a yelp I realised it ewas my scarf, jovial in its gold and scarlet, that was the source of my distress. It had been charmed, and was now tightening with every yard I flew. I looked back to see Regulus not there any more, in my dismay I hadn't noticed him overtake me, and now he flew backwards, his wand out and pointing at me.

With some difficulty, keeping one hand on my scarf to keep it from stifling me and one hand grasping my wand, squeezing my legs together to stop the broom from falling, I sent out any spell I could at him.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

"_Protego!_" I wasn't much, and I certainly didn't disarm him, but it was enough for him to release the charm on my scarf. I threw it off quickly so that it could no longer be a tool that Regulus could use against me, but now I knew. Anything goes, the game had truly begun.

If he would hex my scarf, I decided, I would hex his robe. Using a similar spell to his own, I played with the corners of Regulus' long robe, which was hanging down over the sides of his broom. They elongated and snaked around his arms, though he was too busy looking for the Snitch to notice. Good, they would come in handy lat-

There! I saw it suddenly in the last of the light before the sky plunged us completely into darkness and the moon began to rise. A flash of gold. I dove for it immediately. Regulus didn't follow, surely it couldn't be this simple! I pushed downwards and downwards, following the Snitch now, pressing my broom forward when I felt a sharp pain in my back and I was jerked out of the way. Some spell had knocked me off course with the pain and Regulus, who evidently had noticed, had overtaken me again.

I swerved back behind him and pulled out my wand again, shooting a confundus charm at him. Suddenly he turned backwards on his broom and I took the lead again, shooting up to follow the Snitch, which was now once again in arm's reach.

I don't quite know how but Regulus had recovered quickly, and needed little time before we were neck in neck again. I looked desperately over at him and then back at the Snitch. Both were close, so very close. Having learnt the ways of his broom Regulus had no problems now, and as far as flying went I had not upper hand. I pressed forward, leaning down until my cheek almost touched my broom, he mirrored my movements and our speeds remained equal.

Regulus reached out a hand and began to stretch. His arms were longer than mine, he would reach it before I would, I relised. I had one more card to play, the corners of his robe. With one hand grasping the hilt of my broom, I pulled out my wand and, with much effort of trying to do two things at once, pulled his arms back via the strong chains of fabric. For a moment he was pulled back and I was in front, and then he reached me again, and then he fell behind. Finally realising, he shed his robe and I saw my own desperation matched in his flying.

A vision flashed in my head. Desperation. The Snitch within an arm's reach. Patrick tumbling from his broom. Suddenly, and blindingly obviously, I knew his next move.

I saw it in the slightest twitch of his arm I knew it was coming and pulled up immediately, at the same time in one final effort Regulus veered off to the far right where I had been moments before. Reaching out, I felt cool metal satisfyingly in my hand and frenzied wings still. Puncing the air with my fist, I had one.

The win was not the same euphoric feeling of a Quidditch match, it was more of a quiet contentedness as a few came to congratulate and a few stared. Regulus landed a little way off and nodded respectfully. He knew when he had been beaten, he just appreciated the fight. I gave him a reciprocal nod. He was not too far gone, there was something left in him still, something more like Sirius than Orion and the other Death Eaters.

I pocketed the Snitch as I walked back to the dorms with Peter and Remus, and decided that I would always keep it with me as a reminder to Regulus and all other seekers who questioned the power of a chaser. It wasn't that I couldn't, it was that I chose not to.

_**A/N: Updates will be really sporadic this year due to GCSEs, but thanks for reading anyway and sorry this took so long, didn't have any internet for like a week (I know, it was hell), hope you enjoyed how James got his infamous snitch, I couldn't quite find where it said he got it in the books, did he steal it? In any case this is why the description reads 'slight AU'. Do review for me! **_


	56. You're Invited

My snitch became something of a pet to me. I would take it out when teachers weren't looking and play with it, let it fly before snatching it from the air. It was like a reminder to all those who had witnessed it of my agility and most important, that I had beaten Slytherin.

It was also catnip to girls.

I had given up on girlfriends by this point. Any girl who wanted to cling on my arm was very welcome, with my own knowledge that all relationships would inevitably end because of Lily Evans. She ceased to be a concern to me as I allowed each girl her turn to cling to me and declare our new found fondness of each other for an afternoon so their friends could twitter about it.

Sirius, now emerged from the hospital wing, had become something of a hero and was having his fair share as well. Whatever fleeting, naive, hand holding, nervous smiling 'relationship' he and Belle had had peetered out over the summer and the embers were stamped out the moment another attractive blonde in the year below started batting eyes at him.

He sat with me now in the common room, staring out as snow began to dust the grounds outside in late October. We tossed the snitch between us, and it semeed content to play. Peter sat between us, watching with awe as its delicate golden wings fluttered, glinting against the light of the fire.

"So what are we doing for Halloween?" asked Sirius, holding the snitch between his thumb and forefinger and watching it struggle momentarily before letting it go so that I could snatch it from the air. I shrugged as my hand closed around it.

"There's the feast," I offered. Sirius looked unimpressed.

"We gonna throw a party or something?" I cocked an eyebrow.

"A party?"

"The fourth years did one last year, held it in an empty classroom. They claimed they were 'creating tradition'. Be an awful shame if we didn't keep tradition alive." Any chance for Sirius to drink despite telling himself a hundred times not to. It wasn't a terrible idea, however. Music and dancing and girls in short skirts? Sounded quite to my taste.

"Only third years?"

"All years are welcome, but it's held by the third year."

"Slytherins?"

"Civil Slytherins," I pondered this. Did that mean Lily could bring Snivellus? I shook my head. What would make me think that _I _could take Lily any way? Nonetheless, you never know unless you ask. Plus, I loved it when she got angry.

"Alright then. Where should we do it? Not in the common room surely? McGonagall would never allow it!" Sirius nodded with a perplexed frown. There was a clearly perfect place, a place where if you walked past it three times and thought exactly what you wanted, you wouldn't even have to bother with decorations. But that place was also our sanctuary, there were already certain people who had broken in and tried to find out what we were doing. If we gave them the key, our downfall would be of our own doing.

"An empty classroom then," I suggested, "An Ancient Runes one or something, on one of the higher floors where nobody in our year normally goes anyway?" But another idea had already dawned on Sirius, and he was grinning at me widely.

"How about an old flat out in Hogsmeade?" he asked conspiritorially.

"Hogsmeade? Suppose it'd be great if it weren't so far out of the castle." I agreed, shrugging. Sirius grinned even more, a gleam of light in his eyes.

"Well I was thinking about that. I think the next time I go to Hogsmeade should be easier," he winked at me. I didn't wink back, I was confused. "You know? I won't have to fight off a tree?" Still no bells were ringing. "I was thinking of an addition to the map," he finally said through gritted teeth, and finally I understood.

"You want to _make _a secret passage in Hogwarts? Seriously?" He nodded terribly seriously, with a mischeivous smile. The idea was fantastic, something of dreams. A lasting legacy for all the troublemakers of Hogwarts. It was romantic almost, the passage carved by the hands of Hogwart's very own students, their answer to the injustice of permission forms.

"We'll have to think it through," he said more gravely, "If Hogwarts didn't like it when we tried to map it out, it certainly won't like it if we try and dig a hole in it. And we'd have to protect it. Really well. From all them..." Death Eaters. Purebloods. Black family heirs.

"What's going on here?" Remus asked, stashing a freshly written essay and quill into his satchel at his side and dropping onto the ground next to Sirius, clicking his wrist and warming his cramped hands on the fire. "Killer essay, that Arithmancy one... what?" Sirius and I had adopted the part-guilty part-pleading look we often used when we wished to enlist Remus' help. The look always meant trouble.

"How's the map going?" I asked innocently. He cocked an eyebrow.

"Alright I suppose, it's still gonna be a while until I finish the spell. I'm getting close." I nodded. The twin look on our faces was not gone, Remus still looked suspicious.

"Do you reckon you could work on another one for us?" I asked with a weak smile. He cast a glance between the two of us.

"What are you two up to?" Sirius explained it all to him, not only the passage but the party too, elbowing him a little at the mention of a date. Remus shrank back a little, his last crush had been Cissy Black, the last we'd heard of her Lucius Malfoy was moving in swiftly. She was more black haired than blonde now.

Sirius didn't seem to feel the awkwardness we both did as he moved on with party planning. He had ideas for spiderwebs and skeletons and a werewolf joke he got halfway through before realising it was in poor taste. Altogether it sounded quite wonderful.

The invitation was sent the morning of October 31st by owl post, despite the fact that we were all in the same buiding. They arrived in little black envelopes trimmed with orange, and as much as anybody tried to prise them open at the table, they would not adhere. The ingenuity of the envelopes was that they would not reveal their message whilst in the presence of anybody not invited. This included the entire Slytherin table, the third year of which looked almightily ruffled when no envelopes of their own appeared.

The castle had been sympathetic to Sirius' cause and after pleading with the Room of Requirement, a new tapestry had fallen where the door normally would. It depicted a statue of an old witch, the word _Dissendium _embroidered along the bottom. As it turned out, there was already a path out of Hogwarts which went right into the Honeyduke's basement.

When in private the seal of the invitations were broken, this same picture appeared on a piece of card, orange against the black background. A small figure personalised to each recipient, with a matching hairstyle or Quidditch jersey number or something to that extent, (dressed up, of course) would pull out the wand and point it at the statue. The word _Dissendium _would trail out of the silhouette and suddenly the whole image swirled and melted together, shrinking until all that was left was a dot which moved swiftly across the page, leaving a flourish of orange. _Midnight. You're invited._

It wasn't a proper invitation. It was a challenge. Dare to sneak out at Midnight of old Hallow's Eve. Dare to defy the rules. Have the time of your life.

In the meantime, Sirius and I had used the previous weekend to scout around Hogsmeade, using the newly discovered passage. We found no complex alarm systems at Honeydukes, and knew that a muffliato charm would probably be enough to ensure that nobody came down to investigate.

A wonky diagonal away from Honeydukes was an empty cottage with a sad, rotting, wooden 'to let' sign where some joker had crudely scrawled a red 'I' inbetween the two words. For a few galleons, we managed to rent out the whole thing for Halloween night from a shady looking man in an oversized robe who seemed to be battling something underneath it the entire time we were talking to him.

We set up orange arrows leading towards the cottage along the snow, bewitched to glow when an invitation was close. The house we kitted out with party gear from all the neighbouring shops. Butterbeer and Firewhiskey stood in neat rows, along with other spectacularly colourful drinks sweet-talked from Madam Rosmerta. Cobwebs shimmered in oranges and reds in the corners of the room, ghostlike skeletons waved with unnatural grins in chairs and pumpkins frequented the tables, wearing malicious faces.

Finally, we cast a number of safety precautions, some more complicated than others. We began with the muffliato charm and a hex which would curse anybody who entered with bad intentions, but the real question was how to protect it completely, so that nobody could tell that anybody was in there. For this, we devised our own charm.

It was based upon the Fidelius Charm, although the actual thing was far too complicated for our own magical skill. Instead of placing the secret of the party's location within a person, we placed it on the invitations, therefore making them the keepers. Without an invitation in your hand, one would only see the cottage as a sad little shack with a broken 'to-I-let' sign. The charm was also not extensive as the Fidelius charm. The cottage was still plottable, quite visible and tangible, and when you walked inside- though it would appear empty- the entire house would have a slight shimmering quality to it, and none of it seemed entirely real.

"It'll do," said Sirius, satisfied as we beamed at our handiwork.

"I reckon so," I agreed. There was a pause, and then a question from Sirius.

"If you put the Fidelius Charm on your house, would I be Secret Keeper?" he asked playfully. I looked over at him, his shaggy black hair plastered to his face with sweat, leaning against a broom. In his loose silver chain of a necklace, baggy sweater and jeans with heavy, black combat boots, Sirius was the poster bot for teenage rebellion. His eyes glittered micheivously as I regarded him. He was every adult's nightmare, and- despite recent events- probably the most trustworthy person I knew.

"Course I could, can't think of anyone I'd rather choose."

"How 'bout Peter?" Sirius asked, cocking an eyebrow and I guffawed. Peter? Never.

_**A/N: I decided it was time for some more fun and less moping around feeling sorry for ourselves and Sirius and his crappy family. So, we're going to have a party! And nothing terrible or dramatic is going to happen...**_

_**At all...**_

_**Do review for me, my darlings :) **_


	57. The Close Encounter of Liquor Laced Lips

It started at midnight.

We were there early, of course. Each of us wore a mask and tailcoats- although admittedly we were not identically dressed. Sirius had insisted on wearing his black boots, Remus wore a shabby cream shirt beneath instead of a crisp white one, and Peter's didn't fit him so the fabric puckered and pulled around his growing stomach. The ghost hosts, we got a fifth year so charm us so that we looked translucent and had sprayed fake blood across ourselves. We waited in a line by the door, silent, as people began to trickle in.

The romance of the twelfth chime did not go unpronounced. Few were fashionably late, unwilling to miss the magic of the witching hour, most were early.

The look on their faces was invariably amazement as they entered, at night the shack looked even more spooky, with the moonlight filtering through the windows and peppering everything with its own pale pallor. Most of the light came from hanging lanterns which, quite like the candles in the great hall, floated, suspended in mid air. They clustered mainly around the dancefloor which was currently empty, as there was no music.

The students came dressed in all manner of things. The majority of the girls wore as little as possible, witches in short shirts and healers with cropped tops and shorts under their undone lime green robes sashayed around, sipping colourful drinks. Many of the boys were more gruesome, with a surplus of fake blood. One very creative pair of Hufflepuffs had even become a headless horseman- one of them being the horse.

When it was time, we the hosts raised our gloved hands as a clock somewhere in the village began to chime.

One, the room fell silent as everybody noticed our behaviour.

Two, the smiling pumkins' eyes began to narrow, frowns began to show.

Three, four, five, the skeletons in the corners of the room, seemingly stationary, stood.

Six, seven, the two skeletons made their way to the centre of the room. Some people moved to accomodate them but there was no need, they floated through them easily.

Eight, nine, ten, the pair of skeletons bowed and curtseyed to one another on the dancefloor, and then assumed their positions.

Eleven, all the lanterns flared.

Twelve, floating violins held the same note as the chime and then, very slowly, began to play.

The skeletons began to dance, a complicated waltz as they pirouetted across the floor. Unnatural smiling faces swiveled towards the audience as they watched entranced. The dance was hypnotic, slow and meaningful in each stride. When finally it ended, they took their bows and disintegrated, taken by the wind. Then, the pumpkins opened their mouths and the party began.

The rock of the 70s began to blast through the shack, sung by the mouths of the pumkins on the table. Immediately there was a loud whooping and cheering as the dancefloor began to fill with students, many with drinks already in hand. Our midnight duty fulfilled, we were now allowed to join in with the fun.

Sirius was with a girl in under a minute, taking her by the hand and spinning her twice around until she collapsed dizzy and giggling into his arms, at which point, she took of his mask and threw it into the audience. Realising who he was, she shrieked in excitement and began to dance again. He looked over at me and winked before disappearing with her into the middle of the dancefloor, which was crowded now with other students.

Quickly enough I found myself swung onto the dancefloor by a pair of Ravenclaws dressed as cats or something equally cliché and wiskered. Buzzed with an excess of butterbeer, I soon found myself having the tim eof my life, melting with the music. The ground practically shook with the jumping of a multitude of dancing teenagers.

After some measure of time, however, I saw her. She looked beautiful. She hadn't tried to be scary or slutty, she had dressed instead in a shortened version of a Victorian gown, it fell to just above to her knees and ended in a cap sleeve. She wore a mask, but it was futile, her red hair was a dead giveaway. So were her eyes... to me at least.

Me, however, well I wasn't the only one with black hair, so I thanked the Lord for my mask. I hadn't discarded it yet, and nobody seemed to have told her that Sirius had already been spotted as a host so that she could put the pieces together.

I pushed through the crowd towards her. A group of laterns were gathered behind her and seemed to spotlight her, the most beautiful girl in the room.

"We look like quite the pair," I said to her, shouting over the music, gesturing to our outfits. A smile curved on her glossed lips, revealing a flash of white, straight teeth.

"Indeed we do, good sir," she agreed, curtseying. I arched my eyebrows at the use of archaic language- an expression which went unnoticed from behind the mask- and smiled myself, wondering with how to proceed. Bite the bullet, I decided.

"Care to dance, my lady?" I asked, offering my arm with a small, half-hopping kind of gesture. She looked bemused for a moment, and I had a horrible feeling that she wasn't going to take it, that she knew that it would be me. But then she laid her hand delicately upon it and allowed me to lead her.

We didn't dance like the others did, grinding or pumping their fists opposite each other. We were close, always close, foreheads pressed against each others, swaying to a rhythm out of time with the music, as if the violins from earlier had taken back up especially for the pair of us. I gripped her at the waist, my hands finding silken fabric whilst hers found the back of my neck, tangling her fingers in the hairs there.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" I whispered- or spoke at a normal volume considering the music.

"Sweet nothings," she replied, charmed but not altogether impressed.

"Not nothing," I assured her, "never nothing."

She smiled then, appreciating the sincerity. And then, something happened. The song ended and, as if in accompaniment to our dance, the pumkins began a slower, more melancholy tune. Couples formed on the floor, whilst those who found themselves alone shot straight for the liquor. It was then, wrapped up in some ill fitting romanticism made for those older than us, she pulled me down to her lips.

It was so close, an almost. My heart was racing like a pack of wild horses, depserately trying to gallop out of their boned cage. All I could feel was the sweat where her fingers lay, her liquor laced breath- the subject of butterbeer and no more, those glossy lips and pearls for teeth. Bright green emeralds fluttered closed, unjustly stolen from my sight. We hung in the moment, inching ever closer.

It was so close, an almost, then she reached a hand down and tugged at hy mask, sliding it back up my face and away. Her eyes opened again and immediately darkened with a growl.

"POTTER!" she yelled, throwing the mask down and stamping on it. "HOW BLOODY DARE YOU?"

I hadn't expected this, at least not until after the kiss. I had myself convinced that if she kissed me, she'd magically realise that we were made for each other. This was apparently not to be the case. Unable to recover my charm as swiftly as I would have hoped, I stood motionless and confused for a few moments.

"I-I..." I stammered, probably the most I would have to say in the conversation anyway as Lily began her mindless rant;

"TO LEAD A GIRL TO BELIEVE THAT YOU WERE SOMEONE YOU'RE NOT! YOU DESPICABLE HUMAN BEING! YOU ABSOLUTE, BIG HEADED PIG!" she screamed like a howler, her eyes flashing as I tried to keep my face nonchalant, secretly terrified whilst falling further still in love with her.

Before I knew it, the whole thing excalated before I had time to react. From some strategic pocket hidden behind ruffles, Lily drew her wand and shot a hex at me so quiet it was masked by the music.

I found myself hit with a suddenly unbearable headache. It felt like my actual skull was straining against my skin, beginning to pound painfully as time passed. People began to turn around and gasp as my mask started pulling oddly tightly against my face until it snapped altogether. Alarmed, I placed my hands on the sides of my head to find it...

Growing.

My head was growing, bigger and bigger as I felt it. _Bigheaded. _Very clever, Evans.

"_Redactum Skullus,_" I said clamly, and my head began to shrink again back to its natural size. In the meantime, Lily had gone very pale with her breaking of school rules and hexing a peer, and had run out of the shack, embarrassed and guilty. When my head stopped pounding, I followed her out.

"Evans..." I called, but stopped short when I noticed figures in the darkness. Both were unmistakable, the formidable posture of Professor McGonagall and the good natured hunch of the headmaster. Both of their faces were shadowy, but I could sense fury emanating from where they stood. Fury tinged with something else. Sadness, was it? Pity?

Lily stood quite still beside me, a confused look on her face. As far as I gathered, she had not yet been told off and was not quite sure why. She was also curious as to why my head was still a normal size.

"Come with me, Miss Evans, there is something we must... discuss," her voice cracked on the clinical word, this was the person she pitied. Lily, worried or afraid of getting caught before, now took a step back. Her eyes glistened with uncertain tears. Should she cry? Did she have the need?

McGonagall ushered her over and directed her towards a carriage which sat a little way behind. Lily nodded and somehow forced her feet to move. I tried to say goodbye to her or offer some kind of comfort, but she was unresponsive to my nudges, walking in a straight line only, no deviation or looking back, leaving footsteps in the frost.

I was not so lucky.

"James," the headmaster began in a grave voice, a tone with which I was not unfamiliar. "I hope you know how incredibly dangerous it was of you to bring all of your year out of the bounds of Hogwarts without permission or protection?" his voice began to escalate. For the first time, I began to feel afraid of the elderly man.

"Sir, it was just a bit of fun-"

"Fun? James I don't think you understand the gravity of this situation, have you seen The Prophet recently?" I nodded, I had seen death tolls, warnings, wanted posters, "are you aware of the percentage of muggleborns, half-bloods and blood traitors in this party of yours?" I shook my head.

"Many?"

"Most. If the death eaters found you outside of Hogwarts, without me to protect you, they would take you- all of you- as an example. That's how extremism works." I began to feel uneasy. It was only a party surely? Nothing that bad could have happened? "And I will not even begin to speculate on whether or not there was alcohol at this party,"

"I am disappointed in you, James," the words hit harder than explusion, though I was sure that was where we were going.

"Should we all get in carriages and go home then?" I asked, cautious not to apologise lest my pride reprimand me.

"Carriages? Oh no, you took the risk. You're walking back."

And so we trooped, most of the Hogwarts third year, back to the school. Through the cold we marched, scantily clad for the most part, boys without jackets which had been flung over shivering girls, all in near-silence, anxious about what tomorrow might bring.

Me, I was anxious about Lily.

_**A/N: There was the party, no brawls with Slytherins because I couldn't be bothered but some James/Lily action! I figured it was more dramatic if Dumbledore broke it up as well, I thought it would give James a sense of the situation of the beginning of the First Wizarding War. Hope you enjoyed the party, I very much enjoyed writing, and do review with your thoughts**_


	58. Grounded

"I'm taking the fall," I announced as we arrived back into our dorm finally, shivering and disheartened. Three heads snapped up immediately and looked at me. Thre mouths opened to protest, but I raised a hand to stop them all. "It makes sense. Sirius, your parents'll bloody murder you if they hear about this, literally."

I dragged a finger across my throat threateningly. Sirius huffed and kissed his teeth. His relationship with his parents was tenuous, I was not unaware that he had spent much time in the Wizarding Law section of the library, looking at emancipation. Until such a thing was possible, however, he could not afford to give his family any more reason to kill him for sport. He conceded.

"Remus, you're position here at Hogwarts is also precarious, due to your furry little problem. I am sure there are certain, less liberal teachers who would like to see you go, and so you give them no reason to. We must not allow such a sterling reputation to be tarnished. You can't take the blame either." Remus nodded. He had accepted such a thing just as soon as Sirius had.

Finally I turned to Peter, who was waiting expectantly for why I thought him unworthy of the blame. "Nobody's gonna believe us if we say you did it, Peter," I shrugged and Sirius snorted. For a moment Peter looked disappointed and hurt, but my sincerity was infectious and he soon realised that I was right. The boy was average at best, but the Faux-delius charm was above average magic.

It was a restelss night with all that settled. Three guilt ridden minds and one anxious one would not still for a moment, the sound of the racket inside our heads was almost audible, making the silence of the room positively deafening. I drifted in and out of sleep until the morning when I finally allowed myself to wake and, with no beating around the bush, went to see Professor Dumbledore as I would inevitably have to.

As I walked through the corridor, I passed a group of girls, some of them I recognised as Lily's friends from the night before. I slowed as I approached, hoping to catch a snippet of conversation which might inform me as to what McGonagall wanted to talk to her about.

"Poor girl," one was saying, "I wish there were something we could do."

"I'm going tomorrow, give her some support,"

"Guys..." an observant one nodded subtly towards me and my footsteps suddenly seemed to fall heavy on the ground, louder so that the girls could hear and they all ceased conversation. Apparently Lily's hatred of me was not a secret. I quickened my pace again until I was far enough away that they recommenced conversation. What was happening tomorrow, I wondered? What had happened to Lily?

I didn't have time to think about it, however. The gargoyle had noticed my approach and adopted a disappointed expression. I waved to it ironically and it stepped aside without need of a password. Clearly it was expecting me. It had grown quite used to expecting me.

As had my parents, who stood together, a united front, as I entered the room. The first thing I thought was that my dad was back, which was odd because he usually spent a lot of time with the Ministry overseas, couldn't make it to most of my Quidditch matches. A good telling off however, he apparently wouldn't miss.

The next was the extraordinary colour of red my mum's cheeks flared as she noticed me walk in.

"James Potter," she began in a whisper, her usual indication that she was speechless right before she launched into an hour-long speech. My dad put a comforting hand on her shoulder- like that was going to calm her down, and she took a few visible deep breaths for his benefit. The only reason she restrained herself from shouting was probably so she wouldn't seem hysterical in front of the esteemed headmaster.

"So it's you, is it?" Dumbledore asked from behind my parents. I nodded, but my parents looked awfully confused. Dumbledore sighed. He had guessed as much, after all, I didn't see Sirius' parents hanging around anywhere. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?" It wasn't a chance for redemption, I felt, as much as it was for final words. Considering of course that my mum was going to murder me.

"I'm really sorry, Professor. I suppose I didn't really think about the consequences," it sounded mature and sincere enough, I decided. So I shoved my hands in my pockets and bowed my head. Let the scolding begin.

It began with a few stammered words from my dad. Usually impressed with the level of magic I managed to acheive and the stunts I managed to pull off, he always had a hard time reprimanding me, and only ever did so out of love and respect for his wife. In the meantime, this still meant that his attempts were meek and usually didn't amount to much until it came to punishment where- to redeem himself- he would suddenly become as unforgiving as a guard in Azkaban.

So, after some stuttering, my mum threw her arms in the air and took over, pushing my dad aside and allowing herself to begin to scream. I said nothing, keeping very aware of my neck where at some point in the very near future I was almost certain her hands would be. I dared not look up, lest she begin to scream even more for my insolence at even being able to look up into her face, but instead allowed myself to look at Professor Dumbledore.

The expression on his face was blank, he just watched on almost amused until my mother was quite done, walking over to join my father, forgiving him for his ineptitude and once again re-uniting their attack. Seeing that she was done, Dumbledore began to speak.

"Now, Mr and Mrs Potter, I'm sure you understand that this is a very serious offense, but we understand that it was not with malicious intentions.

"James will not be suspended. Instead he will have detention two nights a week with me until the end of term and will not be allowed on any of the next trips out of the castle." Grounded, basically.

I sighed, relieved. I couldn't bear to go home, leave the safety of Hogwarts for the wrath of my parents, even for a short while. My mother looked almost disappointed, but my dad- ever diplomatic- thanked Dumbledore profusely and led my mother to the door. He gave me a very stern look on his way out, just for good measure, and then left.

"Thank you, Professor," I said with a weak smile. I lingered for a moment, unsure of what to do, there was still a question burning on my tongue. I wasn't sure if it was inappropriate to ask.

"James?" Dumbledore asked, curious as to why I hadn't left yet. "Is there anything else?"

"No," I decided, then instantly changed my mind, "Only I was wondering what happened to Lily last night. What's wrong?" Dumbledore sighed and sat down.

"Yes, I suppose it's only natural you'd want to know, seeing as you were there and everything," he gave me a meaningful look as if to say that he was very well aware that was not the only reason why I was so desperate for news of her.

"Yes, that's it," I confirmed, clinging to our trivial façade.

"There's no easy way to say this, James. Lily's father died of a heart attack last night. That was why we came to look for her, why we found that all the beds are empty." Dead? Lily's dad? It seemed almost impossible, I had seen the man in King's Cross only a couple of months previously, kissing Lily goodbye as she mounted the Hogwarts express. He had seemed fine then, kind even. I chill went down my spine as I thought about it, and I found myself grieving for a man I didn't know.

"The funeral is tomorrow, some students will be catching the Hogwarts express down to London to give Lily support, though I warn you it will only be her closest friends. I might be able to make an exception to your punishment if you feel it is appropriate for you to go." I pondered it. Lily did seem to hate me most of the time. It was probably better that I didn't go.

But the thought of not supporting her through this was even more abhorrent to me than the thought of going and making her upset. She didn't need me yet, but I needed her to. I needed to be the strong arms to cling to when she cried. I needed to be there for her in some selfish way which meant that no other man could, she was mine.

"I would like to go, Professor." I told him.

"Yes, I imagined you would. The train leaves at nine from Hogsmeade, I'm sure you have some imaginative way of getting out the castle, considering I cannot let you out myself?" I nodded silently, refusing to tell him where or how. He preferred it that way anyway, the less he knew the better.

"Well then, James, I will see you Monday night for our first session, until then your are dismissed."

"Session, Professor? I thought you said detention?"

"Oh I did," Dumbeldore agreed, "But anybody who can invent something that close to a Fidelius Charm this young deserves some proper magical training. Believe me, James, training with me is punishment enough." I frowned at the man, the whole thing sounded more like a treat for good behaviour, but thanked him anyway, apologised again, and left his office.

"Dead?" Peter squeaked. By the time I had arrived back at the dorm my friends were awake and waiting apprehensively for the news of my expulsion or absolvement. I had told them only that I was not expelled before having to tell them the news, still quite in shock myself by the effect it had had on me.

Peter had been the first to speak after a moment's silence. All I could do was nod. The thing was, we were surrounded by death. People in the wizarding world were dying every day, horrifically murdered by the followers of a madman. But natural deaths, random irregular ones which struck good people for no reason, there was no reason to those. There was no explanation. There was nobody to blame.

"I'm going to the funeral," I told them, "Dumbledore let me off for tomorrow." My friends nodded, all aware of why I had to go.

"Give her our condolences, will you?" Remus asked. We were all quite unsure of what to say. None of us had lost parents or anybody really, none of us had any way to relate.

The rest of the day was spent catching up on homework, reading or playing wizard's chess, any reason not to talk to each other, there was only one subject to talk about and none of us wanted to approach it. So we avoided it as best we could, accepted congratulations for our party, sympathies for its ends, admirations for our resourcefulness. We answered them halfheartedly, all struck by the death of a man we did not know.

I could not sleep, for I knew somewhere in the distance, Lily Evans' perfect eyes were shedding bitter tears.

_**A/N: So here's the terrible dramatic thing I promised. As we all know, Lily and James' parents have to die before their children do, so it was bound to happen, don't get mad at me for writing it. Also, for any who are unsure about why everybody's so upset for Lily's dad, it's not so much grieving for the man as it is the randomness of his death and how anybody could just die like that with no real reason at any time. It's an eye opening experience.**_

_**Anyhoo, thanks for reading and please do review**_


	59. The Cruelty of the Elder

"Dissentium," I whispered, casting a glance around. Filch and his god forsaken cat were nowhere in sight, so I quickly slipped through the tunnel which appeared, throwing on my cloak.

As I walked, I began to remove my school clothes and stash them in corners, wearing my muggle suit underneath. I hadn't worn it since my ninety year old neighbour Mrs Birnam died two years ago, and even with an hour spent with one of Sirius' girls and many altering spells it didn't fit quite right, and it had now turned from black to a charcoal grey and a navy tie which didn't really match.

It took less time than I thought to reach the end of the tunnel, too lost in thought to realise when I finally reached Honeydukes. I ducked out of the store unnoticed as the shopkeeper rowed with an elderly gentleman who had accidentally let loose a jar of licorice snaps which were now jumping at their feet.

The snow was thick on the ground now, so I took off the cloak. Even if my body couldn't be seen, footsteps appearing on the ground would be hard to miss.

I only threw the cloak back on as I neared the station to see the same friends I had passed the day before gathered, all dressed in black dresses, accompanied by an equally dark clad Professor McGonagall who did not appear to be going. On the side, rejected from this group, stood Severus, wearing a far better suit than mine.

It was surreal to be on the train and not be going home. Each of us could have had a carriage to ourselves if we wanted, but while Severus and I took our own, the main group all crammed into one. I stashed my cloak under one of the seats, figuring that I was here now, nobody could stop me. It was unnaturally silent on the train. Not only was the train much emptier than any of us had ever experienced, but nobody had anything to say. People were still struck by where they were going, what our friend was going through. Few could relate. Far fewer could understand.

Fittingly, it was raining by the time we got to London. The clouds were heavy in the sky, adding weight to already heavy hearts. We trudged through King's Cross to a portkey. Some had realised that I was amongst them and welcomed me. More gave me dissenting looks and warned me I shouldn't have come. I ignored those. They didn't know that Lily needed me. Although admittedly, neither did Lily.

The portkey was a tarnished silver bowl which lay behind a pillar in the corner, hidden from muggle view. Hester Lavington, one of Lily's friends, checked her watch and declared we should all hold on tight. Before we knew it, we were being flung through space unnervingly quickly, clinging onto the bowl or each other for dear life. The faces of some adopted a greenish pallor, but thankfully were never allowed to release their bountiful breakfasts upon the rest of us as we were flung to the ground amongst headstones and mud.

We stood and dusted ourselves off, though we looked much worse for wear no matter what we tried to do.

"There!" Sophia exclaimed, pointing out a small chapel a little way up, where a steady stream of mourners carrying black umbrellas were marching in. We joined them sullenly, taking up the back few pews.

Lily got her hair from her mother. The pair of them sat at the front with her older sister Petunia, still pinch faced but taller now than when I had last seen her. All three shook with tears, heads bowed. Lily especially, who hadn't been with her father when he died, seemed distraught. I felt a small part of my heart tear as I watched her cry. It made me realise the other reason why this had been so scary for me, not only was it the randomness of Lily's father's death, but of what it would do to Lily in life, how it would deaden a part of her, how one bulb in her dazzling array of juvenile radiance would fizzle out. I wanted nothing more than to go to her with some condolence that would fix everything, maybe only to hold her, but I sat and waited as the last few late-comers entered the building.

A priest stood when all were present, and began with a few words about Henry Barnaby Evans, a perfectly normal muggle man who led a perfectly normal muggle life and died a perfectly normal muggle death, stolen too soon from his beautiful wife and daughters. Mr Evans had apparently been some friend to the little chapel, and the priest less-than-tactfully pointed out the many things the man had donated before he died, a stained glass window, a new lectern, money for various functions. Some tutted at the indecency of speaking of monetary matters at a funeral, but most only wept.

Soon enough, the coffin was hoisted up from its place sitting at the front of the hall, and the mourners followed it out. I caught a glimpse of the photo of the man who lay within it as I turned to follow them out. He smiled kindly at the onlookers, unaware of his fate. He had brown eyes magnified by round glasses and a wide smile. His smile was reflected in his daughter's, immortalised in the shattered grin of his youngest. Again I felt bad for the man, he seemed too decent a person for Death to prey on.

I was at the back as Mr Evans was lowered into the ground and dirt was thrown into the coffin. None of us had approached Lily yet, she was clutching her mother with one arm, dirt in the hand of the other she was unable to throw. Petunia didn't offer her any comfort. She had stopped crying now and was only looking bitterly at Lily. She seemed angry for some reason.

One by one the mourners left. Some went off to help out at Lily's house for when everybody started arriving to pay their respects. Others went home, old work colleagues and the like who were all satisfied that they had done their duty consoling the widow and could now go back to more important things.

It was now that Lily's friends surrounded her in a silent hug, protecting their broken friend from further harm. She choked out thank you's to them all before collapsing back into tears. Finally they dispersed as well, and Lily nodded briefly at Severus. Having known the man in the casket, he more than anyone understood Lily's pain and so she would not fight with him today, only accept that they both suffered a loss.

But she was not one to decide whether or not there would be a fight. From behind her, with their mother out of earshot, Petunia tutted.

"Here now, are you?" She asked snidely, any hint of sadness undetectable in her voice.

"Tuney, don't," Lily began but was interrupted by her older sister.

"Well where were they then? Where were all your freak friends when your father was dying?"

"Please," Lily begged, fresh tears in her eyes, "not now."

"Why not? Why should they be spared when he wasn't?" her voice was rising steadily, "You claim to be all special with your magic and your healers," she spat, "where were they when your father was having a heart attack? At a party?"

"Don't," Lily said weakly but it was futile. Petunia was on the rampage. We watched on in horror as all of Lily's guilt gathered into the corporeal being of her older sister.

"AT A PARTY! AND NOW HE'S DEAD! AND-" Lily released a cry but it was too late to stop the words spilling from Petunia's mouth, "AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" There was a gasp from the gathered. Most had gone, but all of the 'freaks' as Petunia had called them were still here and disgusted by the way she treated her sister.

"It's _your _fault he died!" she continued, unaware of the impact of what she was saying. "If you had been here, you could have saved him! If you had been in your bed you could have gotten here faster! He would have lived but he didn't because you were at a party!" Lily had fallen to the floor and was shaking, unable to deal with the potency of the words streaming from her sister's mouth. Despite Petunia's hysterical tone, it still made sense.

"Get out of here, Petunia," warned a drawling voice from behind the group now rocking Lily back and forth and trying to make her feel better.

"I will not just because you say so, freak," she growled. Apparently the temper was something the Evans sisters had in common. I turned to see who was talking to find Severus with this wand aimed right at Petunia. I had no doubt that he would risk expulsion if it meant hexing Petunia at this very moment. After all, for Lily we both would do anything.

Not understanding the threat Petunia stayed indignantly where she was, daring Severus to do something. There were a few tense seconds of silence, broken only by Lily's sobs and shushing from her friends. However, at that moment her name was called and her mother was waving her over. In a time where one had lost family one looks for the closest replacement. Having spent more time grieving with Petunia than Lily who had been at school at the time, her mother had unknowingly adopted a temporary favoritism for her oldest.

Petunia reluctantly turned away and ran to her mother, and we were all alone with Lily at last. She was standing now, pushing people off her, insisting she was Ok. She nodded thankfully to Severus, but didn't approach him when he stepped forward. She could not be so forgiving of the person he now was, only appreciative of the glimpse she received of what he used to be.

Then she saw me.

A mix of emotions fleeted across her face. Anger from last night, confusion as to why I was here, anger again for my being here, and then something like gratefulness for my presence. The latter was the fastest of them all and nearly undetectable as she opened her mouth to speak.

"I don't want y-" was all she managed to say before I grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug, clasping her so completely to my body outsiders could hardly tell whose limb was whose.

Thank god she didn't struggle. At first, she only allowed me to hug her until, on my shoulder I felt a tear fall, and then another. I heard a sob and suddenly her arms were around my waist and she was crying into my shoulder. Instead of the immense satisfaction people expected me to feel however, I was overcome with the same grief she was, as close as I could come to understanding her pain. I stroked her hair sympathetically, swaying side to side in calming motions as she wept.

Overcome by the awkwardness of staring into such intimacy, one by one the Hogwarts students left us to be on our own. Finally, even unwilling Severus had to do so.

Finally, when I had found the words, I pulled away to stare into her eyes.

"Someone once told me," I began, "That it's worse for us." Lily furrowed her eyebrows, confused, but listened on. "Your father, wherever he is, must be happy."

"But what if he's not, what if he blames-"

"If your father was even half as kind as his daughter he will not blame you, never allow yourself to think this is your fault, understand?" she sniffed and nodded, "You _have _to believe that he's happy, that there's something better there, we all do. So he's alright, it's only us. It's worse because we'll miss him, but you'll see him again Lily, I'm sure of it."

"But I want to see him soon! I want him to be home when I get there! I just," she gasped for air and more tears streamed down her face. In a quieter voice, she continued, "I keep seeing my mother crying and turning to find him and ask what's wrong. Tuney's mean to me and I want him to tell her off. I can't get my trunk up the stairs and I want him to help him carry it. I keep forgetting he's gone."

And so she cried again and I tried my best to comfort her, for the more her heart broke the more the part of her inside of mine began to split and the pain was unbearable.

**_A/N: Then a giant half chicken half squirrel jumped out of the shop chewing on some sexy skittle bugs, something that made you temporarily attractive. He needed it, not intended to be rude but I'm known for telling the truth. Daisy, my trusty cow, came and chased him away! She must have been hiding away in the mountains waiting to pounce if I was in danger, unfortunately for the poor creature in front of me she had misinterpreted the danger here. I continued into Honeydukes._**

**_Set just before James walks into Honeydukes, this is Hester's fanfic attempt, she intends to write one all about Daisy and her life in the shrubs outside Hogwarts. I'll link you to it if it ever happens. Hester will now appear in the story as she has a crush on a fictional character._**


	60. No Wands

It was nearing Christmas and Lily had still not returned to school. She hadn't replied to anybody's letters to the best of my knowledge either. Of course, I hadn't sent her any, I didn't expect the odd friendship we developed during the funeral would continue once she returned, but I would take her screaming over her absence every day.

In the meantime, two nights a week, I had been attending Dumbledore's sessions. As it turned out, they were grueling tutorials on magical theory as well as basic charms. And of course, charms had always been my worst subject.

By the sixth lesson however, I would have been happy to do any sort of magic. I had spent hours practicing wand movements and how to hold my wand properly for the best effect. Dumbledore was ruthless, he picked on everything and when I complained would remind me in his own subtle way that they didn't call him the best wizard of our age for nothing.

Finally, now we were moving on to execution. First year spells, but it was some magic.

"The flick like I taught you, James, not that perversion you've been getting away with for the last three years," Dumbledore reminded me, tilting my hand slightly upwards. I was tempted to mutter something under my breath, but he would have heard me and probably punished me with an extra week of 'sessions'.

"_Lumos_," I said, like Dumbledore had taught me, naturally. With the same flick he had just scolded me on, a more intense light than I had ever seen burst from the tip of my wand, filling the darkened room with more light than I had witnessed mustered from the simple charm. It felt like power was charging through me, channeled up my arm and through my wand, so much so all the hairs on my arm stood up and I felt a real chill.

Letting the spell go was like coming down from some kind of high. The power left me like the turning of a knob on a gas stove, spitting its last few embers and the room dimmed once again. I looked up incredulously at Dumbledore, who looked pleased both with me and with his own tutelage.

"Very good, James, very good! That's how it's done! Magic is much more effective when performed right. I am afraid that the use of spells and charms has become sloppy as the centuries have worn on but what you achieved, that was how the spell was intended to work, created by very old and very powerful wizards. I am proud," I smiled at him and glanced back down at my wand. I was amazed. I had done the spell so many times with maybe only half that effect at my best. I didn't realise such a spell had existed with this much power in such a simple form. I hadn't realised that all the grueling criticisms of each tiny detail could lead me to achieve so much.

"Thank you sir," I stammered, turning my wand between my hands, still stunned to a degree. "Where did you learn this, Professor?" I asked, not really paying attention to him. But for some reason the room became very still and Dumbledore seemed awkward. I wondered if I had hit a nerve.

"I knew a very powerful wizard once, James. He taught me the classical things, the way magic was intended..." he trailed off, as if his thoughts had run away with the sentence to something much too personal before he drew himself back, "power is dangerous, James. Give a man to much and he could go insane," I nodded. For some reason Dumbledore often gave me warnings about power. When I brought it up once, he told me it was because I reminded him very much of himself. I insisted that he was a good- even the best- wizard of our time. His eyes darkened then and he refused to discuss the matter further.

"This wizard, did he do things with power? Very bad things?" Dumbledore nodded somberly. "Sounds a bit like a tosser then," I muttered, but Dumbledore didn't smile. His expression remained grave.

"Do not say such things about him, James. He was very dear to me. I miss him," I had never seen Dumbledore look truly sad. Piteous sometimes, something bordering on empathetic sadness often, but never the deep grief which plagued his normally twinkling eyes tonight. Albus Dumbledore was still mourning the loss of his once beloved friend, someone he had lifted star-wards, so far above himself, before having to brutally tear each brick from the foundation until the whole pedestal came tumbling down.

"That concludes our session, I think," he said suddenly, and with a flick of his wand restored full blazing lights to the dimmed candles in the room, restoring it to usual brightness.

"Thank you, Professor," I said gratefully, before returning to my dorm, still pondering what had just happened, the power I had felt, the immensity of such a simple spell. And the cryptic warning about power, the faraway look in Dumbledore's eyes as he relived some romanticised past.

The next few sessions revealed the same things about a multitude of spells. Charms I had hated in the years before were suddenly easier and much more effective than they had been even when Lily had pulled them off. However, each individual spell had its own technique, and Dumbledore refuse categorically to teach me those which I was doing this year, considering it an unfair advantage over the other pupils, and he certainly wouldn't teach me any hexes.

"I warn you, James, using these spells _against _people will have more of an affect as well. It is very dangerous and so I will not give you the opportunity." I nodded, understanding him. My record for hexing people was not exactly spotless.

Dumbledore also did this infuriating thing where he scheduled out lessons _during _Hogsmeade trips, meaning that I couldn't sneak out to Honeydukes once my friends had left, or through the path under the Whomping Willow. Considering why he punished me, he knew I had ways of getting out the castle, but he would only let me off the one time it seemed.

Not only did it mean that I missed the two trips from Halloween to Christmas, but I also missed out on the counsel of a friend I had been wanting to speak to. Spriteworth had written to me telling me that he had got the job as an Auror, and that he would be moving over Christmas to London so there was a shorter commute to the Ministry. I hated that this time I wouldn't get a chance to say goodbye. I'd screwed up my last one.

I had sent a letter with Sirius, who hadn't judged our relationship as much as the others. Though they had no qualms about it now I always worried that the same feelings might linger. The letter mainly said goodbye and thank you, with an emphasis on sending me his new address so I could visit him during the holidays if my parents didn't put me on their own complete lockdown when I got home.

I didn't receive a letter back, but I was assured by Sirius that one would arrive when they came home buzzed with butterbeer and laden with sweets. I almost resented my sessions with Dumbledore then, but not truly. Being better at things than others was wonderful to me, it made me feel more valuable to the people who surrounded me.

Thankfully though, Christmas was soon upon us. Despite how much I enjoyed them nearing the end, Dumbledore's sessions had exhausted me and by Christmas time I knew I needed a break. Entering the Great Hall to find all twelve Christmas tree, frosted with dazzling lights and absurd amounts of tinsel, was like relaxation finally calling.

Home, however, was not.

"_Dear James, the Ministry has called us both back to Romania, it seems some new breed of dragon may have been found. I know we promised to take you with next time darling, but this really must stay top secret until we can be sure. I'm terribly sorry, but I promise we'll make it up to you this Easter, Mum._" I read out to my friends, who were all curious as to the contents of my letter which had made me so disheartened.

"So you're not going away for the holidays then?" asked Remus, feeling slightly ashamed considering that this year his parents were actually taking him away, for the first time he informed us.

"Doesn't look like it anymore," I huffed, throwing the offensive object in my hands in to the fire, relishing in watching it burn. I loved my parents, but they had the most annoying habit of jetting off to places on short notice and not telling me until they had gone.

"S'alright, you can spend Christmas here with us, Jamie!" Sirius insisted. Both he and Peter were here over the holidays. Sirius couldn't bring himself to go home after last year and Peter had promised to stay with him, a gesture that was not completely appreciated by Sirius but not denied by him either.

And then I realised that it was actually sort of perfect, considering both of Remus' full moons had also fallen on session days, and so this Christmas we could make up for lost time and become closer to animagi.

"Alright then," I said with a decisive nod, "Then we'll spend the Christmas you-know-where, becoming you-know-whats." Sirius nodded mischievously but Peter looked confused. Sighing, Remus leant over and whispered in his ear and Peter's face fell and then perked up again, realising that he had to go back to failing miserably before realising that at least he was failing with his friends.

So after a hearty Christmas meal it began, chapter two of the massive animagi book.

_This chapter, the second of three, will teach you how to turn animal parts into human parts and vice versa. It is suggested that smaller animals be used when turning animals to humans but when turning humans to animals DO NOT practice on yourself. Should the spell go wrong nobody will be able to turn you back. _

_Lesson 1: Ears. _

"This book has a thing for starting with the ears, doesn't it?" asked Sirius, cocking an eyebrow. I cast a look down on our mice, already having suffered too much for the cat's ears they had inherited the year before. They were now in for even more of a nightmare.

"It's nonverbal again, isn't it?" Peter asked apprehensively. Though his nonverbal magic had improved, he wasn't very good at any magic really, so these times spent in the come and go room were unkind to him.

"Of course it is, Peter..." Sirius began.

"Wait, Siri," I interrupted. He turned back to me, eyebrows arched in curiosity and some kind of hope.

"You mean we get to use words this time?" he asked, and Peter allowed a smile to creep onto his face.

"Oh yeah," I confirmed, "Words aren't the issue." But I didn't smile. The faces of the other two fell as they tried to work out what I was implying. In answer, I held up my wand. Both still looked puzzled.

Then, I dropped it and let it clatter to the floor.

"No wands."

**_A/N:First, for any who didn't like the implied Dumbledore/Grindelwald slash, we all know Dumbledore's gay and JK pretty much implied that herself so get over it and don't come crying to me. _**

**_Also, you can't use verbal magic or wands to become an animagus, so here's the next half of the challenge. This chapter was a bit of a shambles and I'm sorry about that but I had serious writer's block and just needed to write ANYTHING. Next chap will be better I promise! Review anyway x_**


	61. Welcome Back

No wands proved to be quite an issue. Already not speaking we had had enough of an issue channelling our magic, but now our outlet was being taken away. How were we supposed to make a mouse grrow cat ears by just telling it to? Our first night was spent in vain, shouting at the poor things until they squealed with terror, or that could have just been Peter's shieks of exasperation, the two were interchangeable.

So we returned to the Room of Requirement every night to try again, every night to no avail. After a couple of weeks, Sirius began to tire.

"How the _hell _did Malignatious do it?" he asked, picking his wand back up and nonverbally deforming the abused creature which mewled pathetically and began to lick its paws, having turned more cat than had been originally intended in Sirius' blind rage. Surprised by the noise Peter jumped and shot his own feeble spell at the thing, returning it to its original shape. The creature looked almost thankfully at him and proceeded to try and burrow through its cage to get away.

"A lot of emotion," I replied, trying to pick out any emotion I had ever felt and direct it at my own mouse, who had been left unharmed for so long it had been lulled into a false sense of security and was now sleeping peacefully in one corner of its cage.

"A lot of evil, more like," Sirius disagreed. Again he shot at his mouse a screeching spell, but nothing much happened. I was wary of Sirius' mention of the power of dark magic, for he was right in saying that it was stronger. I was almost afraid he might resort to it. Of course, we all know now Harry that love is the most powerful of all, but even then I had an inkling.

If it has not been clear to you until now Harry, ever since I met her your mother has been my driving force, through Quidditch, through school, through much tougher times ahead for the both of us. It will be no surprise to you, then, when I tell you that when thinking of all possible oppositions to either, the odd, immature version of love I was capable of at that time came to my mind. It was Lily who showed me how to do wandless magic.

There was a lull as Sirius threw his wand to the side again and stormed off into a corner to shove his head in his hands and mutter to himself, trying to figure out how to do it whilst Peter took his own mouse out of its cage and stroked it, showing it compassion in some sort of apology for disfiguring it. I decided to use it to once again summon up emotion, only this time there was only one I was looking for.

Something I rarely allowed myself to do, I broke the dam within my head and allowed my mind to flood with Lily. She cheered for me in Quidditch matches, kissed me in mirrors, she screamed at me in hallways and classrooms and hexed me at parties, she hugged me like I was her only strength. With her so dominant I felt my heart begin to swell with the juvenile desire I felt for her, often mistaken for love until at some indistinguishable point it became so. With my eyes still shut I spoke the incantation, and opened my eyes to the most welcoming sight.

A distressed mouse was now pawing at its oversized ears, having thought it would finally be free.

"You did it, James!" Peter squeaked incredulously, placing his now anxious mouse back in its cage to inspect mine.

"You did?" Sirius asked from across the room, eyes wide. I nodded and he stood, striding over to inspect. His face fell a little in realisation that I had been able to do what he hadn't, and he looked a little crestfallenly at his own, still very rodent-esque mouse. "Well done, Jamie," he said weakly

"How did you do it?" Peter demanded, admiring the unnatural ginger ears.

"Malignatious did it with evil, I did it with the opposite..." I shrugged. Last year Sirius had told me that love didn't exist, and so saying anything to do with the 'l' word since then had become sort of taboo in my eyes. Now, he had to not only come to terms with the existence of love and its absence from his life, he had to incorporate it.

"Love, Jamie? Isn't that a little cliché?" he sneered, still eyeing my achievement.

"Sorry, Siri," I shrugged. "That's how I did it." Nobody approached the subject any further, asking me _what _I loved. My many efforts to win the heart of a certain redhead had not gone unnoticed by anybody in the whole year, but it didn't mean that any of us were comfortable on the subject of Evans, considering I hadn't explicitly told my friends how she made me feel.

Somehow, within the next few sessions, Peter managed to harness whatever it was he loved and his mouse soon suffered the same deformity as its neighbour, much to Peter's glee. But Sirius, unexperienced in matters of the heart, remained unable.

He grew increasingly irritable as, quite accomplished in distorting the ears of our mice, Peter and I moved on to lesson two, legs. Sirius moved his mouse over to a corner and would sit for hours every night, sometimes shouting at it, sometimes only having the energy to murmur. He began disappearing during the days as well, Peter and I would be planning some scheme or sharing some enjoyable sweet from Honeydukes and he would suddenly not be with us anymore, gone off to find some inspiration.

"Alright, Siri?" I asked finally on our last session before school began again, sitting down next to him in his corner, my mouse with Peter's having grown considerably in height due to its new limbs.

"Yeah," he said miserably, staring at his mouse. "'S not working."

"I see that," I said, looking over at his mouse. I had been thinking for the past couple of weeks what it could be that Sirius loved. Over Christmas exchanging gifts we tried to see if any presents from any people would stir up any considerable emotion, if any people in the school or his rebel family could make any difference, but even Andromeda's letter with a picture of little Tonks (Dora, Andromeda insisted on calling her, though Ted added his own little note informing us that Tonks had caught on) had made no difference. Sirius couldn't muster up enough love to perform the magic without a wand.

"I guess I just don't love anything." He put his face in his hands dejectedly, pushing his cheeks up so that his mouth was pulled into a grotesque smile, glistening white teeth flashing reluctantly.

"Course you do, Siri," I nudged him coaxingly, hoping I was right.

"No I don't, _James._" he replied flatly and I frowned. "It's not as easy for me as it is for you, you already know who-" he paused and shook his head. Dangerous territory, "_what _you love. I don't."

I knew this couldn't be true. He loved me and Remus- maybe not Peter. He loved Hogwarts and his life here. He loved being away from his family, and being with those people who were blown off Walburga's tapestry.

"Yes you do, Sirius. I know you do. You love me, don't you?" The two of us squirmed uncomfortably. It isn't the kind of things friends say, sometimes in kidding but rarely seriously and only in situations so serious that anything you said in the moment is almost sacred and not to be ridiculed. But now, with no danger imminent and no banterous tone, it was downright awkward.

"Well course I do, you're like my brother..." still the two of us were uncomfortable, but Sirius smiled a little.

"And you love Dromeda and Ted? And you loved Alphard?" Sirius nodded.

"Yeah, obviously..."

"And Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts is my home!" he exclaimed, nodding vigorously.

"Well then maybe it's not about loving only one thing," I explained to him, "maybe it's about loving them all. Maybe it's a love small when divided, but large enough when added together to perform the kind of magic we want." I gestured to his mouse. Then, I stood and left him to think about it.

Half an hour later, Sirius returned triumphantly with a very disturbed mouse.

He moved on gleefully to feet with the two of us, accomplishing it in fewer goes than me or even Peter. He was a changed man, smiling widely and truly happy, laughing riotously like he used to. I knew this would be a phase, like everything with Sirius. He had highs accompanied by the realisation he had friends and a home here and tricks to play on an unsuspecting public, followed by crushing lows as all his insecurities pulled him back into their murky depths. For now, we enjoyed the high.

A man reborn, or so he claimed himself, Sirius was quick to catch up on the schemes Peter and I had planned in his absence, adding his own signature twists on all so that we would be _sure _to get a detention if caught.

"What if the fireworks spelled out 'Binns in the bin'?" he suggested, looking at one of our simpler, almost routine pranks including our firework façades and a few more elements to give it a little flair.

"I missed you, Siri," I said, adding that detail to our sheet of pranks, kind of like that kind of logbook that bring about the downfall of embezzlers. "_Mischief Managed,_" I informed the paper, happy with the changes we had made with the return of the genius that was Sirius Black.

"Good to be back," he winked. "Shame holiday's almost over."

"I know."

The agreement did not come from one of out small cluster sitting at a table in the Great Hall for lunch, but from a little further away, from Hester Lavington in fact, the timekeeper from Lily's father's funeral and one of Lily's close friends. She was sitting alone, having pushed her plate away and using her hands instead to carve into a clay object in her hands.

"Shame it's over, I mean," she said nonchalantly as none of us replied, unaware that she was interrupting anything or that normally such a situation should be awkward.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed immediately, struck by a sort of charm she had about her. It wasn't prettiness exactly, but it was something exciting. Hair somewhere between brown and auburn in colour fell past her shoulders upon which she sported a knitted scarf despite the warmth of the hall. "What's that you've got there?" he asked, pointing to her hands with a lump of clay in one and a thin tool in the other.

In answer, she placed it on the table facing us. It was a bust of a man, hollow eyes stared out at us, exceptionally carved, so close it life it could really be alive.

So of course we all jumped when it opened its mouth and replied flatly; "None of your business."

She picked it back up and continued to carve its nose as it fell dormant again. Sirius furrowed his eyebrows. He couldn't understand how the girl who had struck up conversation was now ignoring us again.

"Yeah..." he said, rolling his eyes and classing her a bit weird to the rest of him. That didn't mean he wouldn't pursue her, only that he found her slightly odd.

And now complete with a girl to chase, Sirius was indeed back.

**_A/N: Sirius is a bit of a manic depressive in this story, sorry for those of you who don't like that but seriously, go through what this boy went through and then tell me you're not messed up. Hester will also have quite a big role so let's not dismiss her. She's cool. _**

**_Hope you enjoyed, I'm back baby! Do review x_**


	62. Snakes

"How much do you know about the Hester girl then?" was one of Sirius' first question when Remus arrived back in school. He furrowed his eyebrows at him, not entirely sure how this was a welcome.

"She's one of Lily's friends," he replied, a note of incredulity in his voice that Sirius still hadn't realised how ridiculous this was. They hadn't seen each other in nearly a month and instead of asking how Christmas was or thanking him for his gifts, he was asking him about a girl. "I think she should be in your divination class."

"Maybe," Sirius said, a pensive look on his face. "Alright then, thanks Remus!" And off he bounded to some unknown place to woo Hester Lavington and then, once the chase was done, forget about her entirely in the pursuit of a new prey.

I shook my head, "Forget about him, he's had a rough time." Remus gave me a worried look, "No, nothing big this time, I got him through it. Only I'm not exactly gonna drag him back down from his high until I absolutely have to. Never mind, how was your holiday?"

After hearing about Sirius' episode Remus was more reluctant to tell me about his Christmas, feeling it paled in regard to our excitement, but finally he relinquished a few details of being with his family and of finding another werewolf with whom he could identify and who shared his pain. I noticed on his wrists as he levitated some of his clothes and his sleeves slipped back. They were bruised.

"Chains," he explained feebly. "Hurt my wrists but meant I didn't..." meant his hands weren't free to tear at his chest. I nodded. "Anyway, thanks for your present. Mum really appreciated five bottles of Firewhiskey stashed away in my room." I winked at him.

"What are friends for?" He chuckled but didn't return with any retort about how friends didn't get their friends in trouble with alcohol and their parents, so it was safe to assume that the bottles were opened and their actual contents of pumpkin squash discovered.

"So you hid them then?" I asked with a smile.

"What did you expect me to do? Mum near had a heart attack when she saw them. Blamed you a mighty lot!" I feigned comedic hurt expression, jabbing my finger into my chest.

"Me? A bad influence? Why I never..." before I could finish the sentence the three of us were laughing too hard. I wondered what Remus' mother would do if she found out that his son brewed us a hangover cure every time we played a Quidditch match? Or that he had helped us set up row upon row of alcoholic drinks only two months ago? Or that his friends were planning on becoming unregistered animagi just so that we could go galavanting at night with him?

These were all the thoughts which invoked the hysterical laughter into which Sirius entered, opening the door to our dorm and leaning against the doorpost with his arms folded, smiling to himself. We were an odd bunch the four of us, the werewolf, the blood traitor, the rebel and the fool. When finally we wiped the tears from our eyes and looked back up at the door, the last bouts of chuckles fleeing our bodies, Sirius spoke.

"Hey Jamie," he said with a sly smile, "she's back."

"Really?" I asked, springing up from the mess I had collapsed into with Remus and Peter.

"Came in on the train with Remus, not that I suppose he mentioned it?" he shot a look at Remus who tried a few weak apologies before shrugging.

"She's still a bit shaken from..." We nodded, "I guess I didn't think she was up for your harassment just yet, James." I nodded. No, he was probably right. If he had told me straight off I would probably have acted just as Sirius had, bounding off to find a certain Gryffindor girl. But now, thinking about it, it was probably best to give Lily a bit of a break. Who knew what kind of hexes she'd put on me after just spending Christmas without her father but instead with her evil sister.

"Sure, Remus. You're probably right. How is she?"

"Quieter than she used to be, but better I imagine." I was happy to hear it, hoping that her fire had not died too much that I would no longer hang around with the half fear of being burned.

"Find Hester, did you?" I asked Sirius in an attempt to change the subject.

"Yeah," he sighed, stepping over the threshold and closing the door behind him. "She was listening to some muggle music and drawing a skeleton on her hand."

"That sounds cool," I said, imagining the bones in my own hand.

"It was until it leapt off her skin, reached out and tried to throttle me the second I started making a move." I let out a bark of laughter.

"Smart girl," I replied and Sirius crossed the room with the sole objective of punching me in the arm, then plonking himself down beside Remus, his back against the foot of Peter's bed, upon which Peter sat. He gave a little yelp at the thought of a skeletal hand reaching out for his throat but we were too busy laughing at Sirius to notice. Suddenly, Remus snorted.

"Something funny there, Remus?" he asked.

"Oh no," he shook his head and bit his lip, his face going red with the effort. "Only I'm glad to know there's one girl in this school who doesn't swoon at the advances of the infamous Sirius Black."

"Shut up!" Sirius protested, giving him another punch. "Maybe she won't swoon, but sooner or later she'll submit."

"I said that about Lily once..." I began.

"Three years later..." Remus continued. Peter laughed at the easy banter between us as he usually did, not quite intellectually capable of taking part but always a good onlooker.

Don't compare me to the likes of him!" Sirius protested, pointing at me as I sat back down opposite them, my back to my own bed. "He's just pitiful!"

"So kind," I grimaced. "Anyway, Remus, I'd like you to look at some things. _Accio prank sheet_," obediently my drawer opened and relinquished a seemingly innocuous sheet of parchment we had once swiped from Remus with simple Arithmancy notes on them. "Care to do the honours?"

Sirius and I were planning something big. As our first prank back from our little hiatus from friendship, we needed something so that we could come back with a bang, and so we had spent the whole Christmas holidays thinking of possibilities, and now we only needed Remus' help to make them so.

Drawing his wand from his cloak, Remus tapped the parchment. "_I solemnly swear I'm up to no good._" He began to skim through the sheet, a blotchy mess of three different, scrawling scripts and Remus' own neat one somewhere in between, spells and the like, nothing too incriminating.

"This looks good," Remus announced, pointing out one of the ideas on the sheet.

"Yeah, that one's a favorite." Sirius agreed, and then said "Kettleburn," to let me know which one we were talking about, considering that from my place sitting opposite them I couldn't tell which they were pointing at, and the sheet was very nearly full.

I grinned, "Nice choice, Remus."

So it was to be that in Professor Kettleburn's lesson amid the fully grown mandrakes and skrewts, we found a small trickle of water begin to lace itself between the legs of the students. Few noticed, except for some of the girls who began to find their shoes caked in mud where before there had only been dry soil.

"What is that?" One asked, pointing at the seemingly sentient stream as it wove around her legs.

"Oh no, not my shoes! They're new!" another cried.

"Students, students! Please, settle down. Now what is all this racket..." he stopped dead, just as one tendril of the water rose languidly from the ground right in front of his head. As the thing grew it took form, the unmistakably hissing form of some massive snake.

Someone shrieked, hopefully not Peter, as its head swam closer and closer to the face of petrified Professor Kettleburn. Another began to rise, and then another, all around us animals- predominantly snakes- took form out of the water that was steadily rising, well past the knees of the shorter few.

More shrieking was followed with cries of complaint as books and notes were drenched, clothes were ruined, skirts floated up revealing concealed ladders in tights. Oxen snorted, wolves howled and the snakes, so many snakes all lethargically making their ways towards the weak, crystalline fangs trapping sunlight's terrified rays as a weapon for seconds and setting them free only to attack new ones.

It was then, amid the cries of the third-year Care of Magical Creatures class, surrounded by the most magical of creatures all turned their heads towards some mounting tide, the main event. The water was now up to most people's stomachs or chests when all the creatures collapsed back into the water, traveling quickly to gather behind Professor Kettleburn, who watched in horror as the thing grew behind him, casting a shadow, gathering every drop of water that had been left on the ground around the students.

The wave reached full height and, to the astonishment of all and the feigned astonishment of four, grew wings.

They stretched out from the middle, water from lower down gathering in on itself, lending itself to the massive wingspan as above a head began to take shape. The class fell silent as suddenly a giant dragon stood before, them, opening its massive mouth and showering the class with curling tongues of water.

Then, with a flap of its gargantuan wings, it collapsed.

Many tons of water were released upon the head of the Care of Magical creatures professor, who struggled against it but soon realised that there was nothing to do but wait it out. His arms flopped hopelessly by his sides as all that had remained of probably the closest he would ever see to a dragon seeped into his clothing or puddled around his feet. It was all topped off by one last, comical drop.

Angry and soaking, Professor Kettleburn spluttered for a while, blowing his nose with a sodden tissue and rubbing his eyes. When finally he was ready to speak, his voice was hoarse.

"Which of you did this?" he demanded, albeit a little less frightening then he meant it to be with his clothes a mess and what little hair he had left plastered to his face. Nobody answered. He tried again.

"Which of you did this?" he cried. A few looks were shared, but none by the guilty party who knew well enough that suspicion already lay upon them. However Professor Kettleburn, quite exhausted by this ordeal, threw his hands up in the air. "Fine. Don't tell me, I'll find out some way or another. Class dismissed."

The two most wonderful words which made the wet uniforms and notes Ok. An hour of freedom they had been granted, thanks to the jokers who had built the water dragon. Any anger towards them was gone from the class as everyone gathered their things and fled as quickly as possible.

The who trick had been set up with a small object, a watering can we had cursed earlier and from which the curse had now been lifted to it lay beside the mandrakes looking perfectly normal. We had done no magic ourselves, removed no wands from our pockets as everything took place. We were never found to be the culprits because we left no trace.

Well, one trace. There had been no lions, no badgers, no ravens, but many, many snakes.

**_A/N: Sorry this took so long to upload, it was my birthday this weekend and all but that's all over so back to my main priority, writing FanFic instead of doing my homework! Love you all and thanks for reading, do review for me won't you?_**


	63. The Weight of Words

I waited a while before approaching Lily again, having Remus test the temperature during the time he spent next to her in Defence Against the Dark Arts whilst pretending to write essays on boggarts and waiting apprehensively whilst they spoke. Every word I heard whispered from their direction oozed with intrigue, and despite how unlikely it was I seemed to have convinced myself that they were all about me.

In the meantime, Sirius was furiously campaigning with Sophia to switch places with her up front so that he may sit next to Hester. He would bring her something to class every day in that same hopes, and would harass her with little paper birds during class begging for a switch.

Sophia, however, was reluctant to sit next to Peter, and even more so to move from Hester. At the present moment the two were doodling on each other's notebooks and ignoring every word Professor Ashworth said, depending on copying up the boy's notes afterwards. The boys always took notes, they never allowed a word the seductive teacher said to go unheard.

"Your little friend is very determined," Snape drawled as one of Sirius' scorned birds made the flight back towards its master, giving Snape a violent peck on the head as per its creator's orders. "He ought to give up on the girl, considering her fate..."

"What fate?" I hissed, annoyed. Professor Ashworth was giving a muffled speech on something I didn't care about with her pencil hanging from between her lips, swiping along those full red lips like the lips of me and my fellows so yearned to do, so I _really _didn't want to hear Snivellus Snape drone on about some anticipated 'fate' of a girl I rarely knew.

"You know, her being a _mudblood _and all." My heart lurched at the word, and for a moment I felt physically ill. I couldn't believe that somebody my age could say a word like that. In my mind it was reserved to the most daring, right wing, outspoken of adults, people who had lived entire lives to formulate their own opinions, not third year Slytherins, not a word like that.

Not when you're in love with one.

So I punched him.

But I swear, I didn't mean to break his nose again. Or at least, in some part of my mind I did, but not in a classroom with the sexiest teacher ever watching me. Her eyes widened with her mouth and the pencil dropped from her mouth, clattering to the floor. The class was silent as all turned to stare at the two of us, me nursing me hand (punching him really hurt) and Snivellus probably more pitiable, blood gushing from his swelling nose.

"Oh, Mr Potter, that just won't do!" she tutted, stalking to the back of the room, pulling her wand from her boot as she arrived at our desk. "_Episkey! _There you go Mr Snape. You ought to get yourself all cleaned up, hm?" Snape nodded gratefully, his mouth unable to form coherent sentences with her so close to him. Pathetic.

"Should I go see Professor McGonagall, Professor?" I asked, quite aware of the staff protocols by now.

"And get out of the rest of the lesson? Oh no. You and I will go and pay her a little visit after class. In the meantime, I'd like to keep a closer eye on you." Twiddling her wand between her fingers, she glanced around the classroom. "How about you swap with Miss Woodspurt?"

Sirius bit back a protest with an angry fit of coughing, cursing himself for not having thought of punching Snivellus so that he may get the chance to place himself next to Sophia's partner. I tried to bite my lip and not smile as I thought of how annoyed he must be right now and what he would say to me at the end of the lesson, gathering my stuff and carrying it to the front of the classroom as Sophia begrudgingly pushed past me, having held her seat so long against Sirius only to be moved from it by the already-disliked professor.

"Hey Hester," I sighed, dumping my stuff beside hers.

"Merlin, don't get too excited," she replied sardonically, "you might have a fit or something." I gave her a tight-lipped grin which she returned for a moment, before saying; "Glad you punched him."

"What?" I asked, eyebrow raised.

"Lily's greasy little friend, he deserved a good one, square in the face. Of course, it wasn't necessarily the best idea to do that in the middle of a lesson..." I rolled my eyes. "But it was enjoyable for me to watch so who's complaining?"

We were shushed by a chorus of boys who wanted desperately to linger on Professor Ashworth's every word behind us, and so fell silent, Hester continuing to shade in the silhouettes she and Sophia had been drawing before she was moved.

After a long while listening to Professor Ashworth finish up her talk on the effect certain things have on Vampires (a topic upon which she had a startling wealth of knowledge and which stemmed some rumours about her and a cold-blooded lover), the class finally ended, Hester packing up her quill and ink, her sketchbook and parchment completely clear of notes, and slinging her leather rucksack over her back.

"Hey, Hester?" I called after her before she turned to go, still trying to cram my textbook into my own bag.

"Yes, James?" She asked impatiently, keen to leave the classroom and her annoying Defence teacher behind her.

"I know this might be inappropriate seeing as I don't really know you, but Sirius would kill me if I didn't ask..."

"Tell your friend Sirius," she interrupted, "that if he wants any chance with me, he ought to stop treating me like every other girl." She raised her eyebrows as if to ask if that was all and, when I nodded, flounced out of the classroom to join Sophia, Lily and, to my surprise, Remus, who seemed to have taken quite well to Lily and her friends. How Sirius and I envied him.

Immediately I felt a pressure on my back as Sirius leapt on me, shaking my shoulders and spinning me around.

"What. Did. She. Say?" he asked excitedly.

"He told me you shouldn't treat her like every other girl..." I repeated like a line from a textbook, and he furrowed his eyebrows, puzzled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, "Treat her like a boy?"

"Unlikely," I told him, but our conversation was cut short as Professor Ashworth slid in between the two of us and clasped a hand on my shoulder. I shuddered at her touch, wondering how jealous all my other peers would be if they could see me now.

"Mr Black, would you like to escort us to Professor McGonagall's office?" she asked sweetly, with that same undertone all the time like she was letting us two in on some joke she had kept to herself thus far, masking it with sultry sweetness, but was giving us the privilege to be a part of it.

"No thank you, Professor," he replied coolly, giving me a clutch on the arm as I began the march to my doom before trying to rejoin Remus in the blind hope that he was still with Hester.

"Well, let's go then!" she exclaimed, like we were going on a field trip rather than to have me punished by the most disciplinary teacher in the school.

"Let's," I replied through gritted teeth, wishing I could resent her optimism and yet still finding it infuriatingly alluring, like she exuded some kind of drug which clouded all the annoyance the girls seemed to find so easy to feel for her and enhance her beauty so hating her was virtually impossible. It felt like a violation of some kind of rights to make my own opinions of her, and yet I couldn't give a care in the world as long as she continued to look at me through those heavily lashed eyes with such a sparkle.

But she was still walking me to McGonagall's office like a felon walked to the gallows.

"Ah, Mr Potter," she did not greet me with the same smile Professor Ashworth wore, "and what is it this time?"

"James broke Mr Snape's nose, I'm afraid," answered Professor Ashworth before I had the chance to say anything redeeming. Quite shocked by her composure and lack of complete outrage at the fact I had _punched a student in the face- _something I was equally surprised about, McGonagall's face turned red.

"He _what?_" she exclaimed, her voice rising to a pitch only audible to dogs.

"He punched Mr Snape in the nose during our lesson. I fixed it but still, I think it deserves some form of punishment," she replied with a smile, infuriating McGonagall even more.

"A very _astute _observation, Professor," she replied cordially through gritted teeth, "may I ask why you did not come to that conclusion _immediately after _the incident?" Professor Ashworth shrugged innocently.

"I wanted to finish my lesson first." I could have sworn the pulsing vein in McGonagall's temple was about to burst when she said that, but after a few deep breaths she drew herself back together.

"Well thank you for bringing him to me at all, _Cressida,_" she said pointedly, "but I think I can handle it from here." Professor Ashworth nodded with a pleasant smile and tapped me lightly on the shoulder in some sort of goodbye before strutting towards the door, closing it with a little more force than necessary and with it sealing the wax on my order for execution.

"Physical violence, Mr Potter?" McGonagall asked disappointedly, "a practical joke, fine, a sophisticated hex on a rival perhaps even impressive, but I have not known you to use such crude methods as punching a boy you didn't like."

"He deserved it,"

"I highly doubt that,"

"He did!" I insisted, surprised with the volume with which I spoke. "Sorry," I said immediately, "but he did." McGonagall sighed, deciding as she most often did to give me a fair trial no matter the wrong I had done.

"What was it that he did which deserved the disfigurement to his face then?" she asked, sitting down as if hearing what I had to say would bring on a wave of exhaustion.

"He called Hester Lavington a..." I wasn't sure whether I could bring myself to say it. The word was so abhorrent to my tongue, carrying the weight of a thousand people's prejudices, the potency of holocausts and war. McGonagall leant in at my hesitation, interested by something even I would not say.

"Yes?" she coaxed.

"He called her a mudblood," I said finally, wincing at the taste of the word on my tongue, ugly and vulgar. McGonagall cringed with me, as if it had been a blow to her personally and not just a member of her house, which contained many other students of the same ugly and vulgar description.

"Are you sure, Mr Potter? These are very serious allegations to make."

"I am, Professor." I knew she'd believe me. My own reluctance in saying it proved my knowledge of the weight of the word, and I wasn't just trying to use is as some cowardly scapegoat.

"Very well," she tried to find the words, the right punishment. No doubt she would probably have done the same thing in my position, and as such was unsure how she could punish me for doing something she thought was the right course of action. "Nonetheless you did still break his nose, so you will have to write me an essay, four feet, on the value of magical blood and its absurdity, even danger."

It was not a punishment, it was a chance to vent, a chance to share opinions on something that impassioned the both of us. I nodded.

"In the meantime, I will speak to Professor Dumbledore and decide what to do about Mr Snape."

"Thank you, Professor," I said, and she nodded sincerely, a sort of reciprocal thanks, for punching the little racist square in the face.

_**A/N: So yeah, that happened. That was quite a fun chapter because I like it when Snivellus gets hurt and it also foreshadows the end of his and Lily's friendship which, unfortunately, can not come soon enough!**_

_**Don't worry about Sirius if you are, he will continue to be a player he's just chasing Hester for now, but she will be a true love so if you don't want that Sirius and you want the one-dimensional player type character, go read a different story.**_

_**Thanks for reading my lovelies! Please review for me, won't you? **_


	64. The Conundrum of Fortunate Genetics

Winter faded smoothly into spring with few disruptions, followed swiftly by a long awaited trip to Hogsmeade. I awoke early, having missed the cookie-cutter town during my time spent in Dumbledore's office. In anticipation a few days earlier, I had sent Spriteworth a letter about my coming and he had assured me he'd be there.

"Better get going," I told Sirius, tossing the cloak in his direction, "We'll meet you in Honeyduke's in an hour."

"Right," answered Sirius, throwing the cloak over himself and disappearing. "See you there." Remus saluted his general direction and Peter smiled into the middle distance, but Sirius was already gone, his coin pouch jingling through the corridors towards the statue.

In the meantime, Remus, Peter and I grabbed our own bags and headed out towards the other students, lining up to be registered. Lily gave Remus a smile and we headed over to her, Hester and Belle, who greeted me and Peter with less hostility than I had expected.

"Alright, Potter?" Hester asked, tilting her head up in a friendly gesture.

"Just fine, Lavington," I replied, "Evans," I gave her a two fingered salute which she ignored, but she wasn't hexing me so it was a start. Unsure of how to pronounce _Delafeu _without offending her and getting it horrifically wrong, I gave Belle a sheepish smile which she returned.

"Where is Sirius?" she asked, somewhat expectantly. "I know he comes to Hogsmeade, but I never see him here."

"He's... finding his own way there," I answered, casting a sidelong glance at Remus who shrugged, shaking his head and kissing his teeth. Belle smiled pleasantly, not quite understanding our little exchange but probably guessing- because we were, after all, the marauders- that it was something she probably didn't want to be involved in.

Grass sprung from the once frozen ground in Hogsmeade, and skies once overcast and spewing snow when I last saw them had returned to their bright azure. The perfect little houses glistened with dew and the trees had found themselves coverings of leafy emerald.

Sirius wore a wide grin as we neared Honeydukes, leaning against the doorpost and tossing my snitch between his hands.

"Think fast, Potter," he yelled, throwing it at me. The small golden ball whizzed towards me and pulled upwards at the last minute so I literally had to jump to snatch it out of the air. The little object, quite having missed its rightful master, folded its wings contentedly in my hand and allowed me to slide it back into my pocket. I remembered now that I had wrapped it in the cloak a couple of days ago when trying to hide it from the suspicions of Sir Aeroson, who was still adamant that one was missing and he _would_ get to the bottom of it.

It was wonderful to breathe the air of Hogsmeade again, to wonder through the town with complete freedom. I had especially missed Honeydukes and Zonko's, places of colour past the reds, greens, blues and yellows of Hogwarts.

"C'mon then, Siri," I laughed, clasping his shoulder, "I think we need a little extra sugar, don't you?"

"Couldn't have put it better myself."

We might have spent an hour in Honeydukes and Zonko's respectively, leaving with few purchases but many new ideas. For a while we practised throwing Liquorice Snaps into each other's mouths to the amusement of our small group of friends who laughed and applauded delightedly when we occasionally got one in but laughed much harder when we more often didn't and one, in annoyance at having fallen to the floor, would snap at our ankles, latching on with their strong teeth.

Eventually the games got tiresome and we walked to the Three Broomstick's, sliding onto one of the stools at the bar next to Sirius. Madam Rosmerta turned to take our orders and a wonderful smile graced her face.

"Ah, James Potter, I was wondering when I'd see you again. Poor Sirius here looked a bit lost without his other half." Sirius nudged me and I grinned.

"Thanks, Rosmerta," I pulled out a couple of sickles, "I've missed your butterbeer, I must admit." Smirking she pulled out a tankard and when I pushed the coins towards her but she pushed them back with a loud 'pfft'. "On the house," she said, "It's your first one back after all."

"Why thank you," I replied, taking a large swig. As I did so behind me, the bell on the door tinkled quietly with the promise of more paying customers and Madam Rosmerta swept out from behind the bar with a bright barmaid's smile. The four of us turned to see who it was and immeditaely turned back and ducked down, recognizing a troop of Hogwarts professors whereas Lily and her friends gave them pleasant smiles. It probably had something to do with the guilt of not having done any of the homework set from them.

The look on their faces fell quickly however, when the last of the Hogwarts group entered the inn. Her entrance was preceeded by the clicking of heeled boots against the wood, the slight waft of perfume that permeated the air. It was followed by the turning of every head in her direction as Professor Ashworth gave Madam Rosmerta a little wave she begrudgingly returned and slid into a booth with Professor Séancine, Professor Kettleburn, Professor Slughorn and, to my surprise, Eris, who was currently giving the Divination teacher a warm welcome, clutching her to him.

"Could her skirt be _any _tighter?" asked Lily disgusted, narrowing her eyes.

"I don't mind, personally," I admitted, winking over at her. With a tut her cheeks flushed and she shifted her glare to me before tossing her hair in my direction and turning to chat animatedly to Belle about the innapropriate attire of their beautiful Professor. Hester shrugged.

"Don't really understand what all the fuss is about really," she confessed, "she's pretty and all, but she's little more than a tight skirt and a low-cut top."

"Oh no, she's more than that," Belle squinted over at her, "there's something, a _je ne sais quoi_, but she is familiar to me."

"I'd like her to be familiar to me," Sirius said in a low voice which sounded somewhat perverted. I thumped him on the arm and jerked my head over at Hester, who only seemed to be laughing at Sirius' profanity. He raised his eyebrows, impressed. Lily was practically gagging at the comment- which, compared to some of his other innuendos- was fairly mild.

We spent most of our time in the pub sipping tentatively on our butterbeers and looking over at the teachers. It was like seeing zoo animals unleashed into their natural enviornments. There was an element of danger about it, lest they find out something they didn't want to know or if the professors found their interest unseemly.

After a while though, when their glasses were drained and their faces aching from constant laughter, they stood and thanked Madam Rosmerta for her hospitality. She smiled at most of them as she left, saving a particular grimace for Ashowrth for whom she also felt that same jealousy. When they were all gone, I stood and walked over finally to Eris.

He looked like he had when I first saw him, clean shaven with his copper-blonde hair recently trimmed and he had rebuilt his strength in his time training to become an auror. He even wore the same deep green robe I had first seen him in.

"Hey James, we'll see you later?" Remus asked. I nodded over to him and the others, who looked somewhat suspicious at my sitting down with our Defence teacher from two years ago.

"James," Eris sighed, smiling at me. "You've grown." I looked down at myself and shrugged.

"Yeah," I replied, "'S been a while."

"That it has," he replied, finally opening his arms and drawing me in to a fatherly hug. "How have you been, James?"

"I've missed you," I replied sincerely.

In the way that he always did, Spriteworth managed to coerce everything that had happened in my life out of me. For an hour I told him all about our new professors, Lily's father, my greatest fear and facing the boggart. I shrunk a little bit at that point, somewhat embarrassed.

"James," he insisted, "don't be ashamed. Few have the courage to fear death, most only put it out of their minds and refuse to acknowledge its presence. At least you have given it enough regard to know its power." He gave me an encouraging smile which I tried to return weakly. Realising I was uncomfortable, he moved on swiftly to a topic which was more likely to make me smile.

"I bet you'd rather have had Professor Ashworth as a teacher all the way through though, surely?" He cocked an eyebrow and I gave him an innocent look.

"Whatever could you mean?" I asked, doe eyed and puzzled.

"I think I saw yours and your friends' mouth practically drop to the floor when she came in, I must admit it was rather funny." I shrugged.

"Tell me you don't think she's the most gorgeous creature you've ever seen then?" Eris chuckled, paused, and then burst out into another fit of silent laughter again, his shoulders shaking as he banged his fist against the table, small amounts of butterbeer left in glasses rippling.

"What?" I insisted, "What are you laughing for?"

"Cressida Ashworth? You're asking me if I find Cressida Ashworth attractive?"

Unsure of why this would be so funny, I continued to shrug and furrow my eyebrows at him. "Well yeah. Don't you?"

"Of course I do!" he exclaimed, barking with laughter, "she's Veela!"

"She's what?"

"Cressida Ashworth is descended from the Italian Veela which settled here in the late fourteenth century! Every man finds her attractive, obviously, it's in her very DNA!"

Suddenly it all made sense. Of course she was so attractive, of course every boy couldn't help but drool over, stare so intently at her, take all their notes in lessons. No wonder she seemed so intoxicating, so undeniably alluring, no wonder every time she spoke to one of us our mouths went numb and every sentence became incoherent.

And just as it made sense, those very things which made her so intoxicating, her scent, her hair, her stride, seemed to lose their charm. Where before they had seem effortless now they looked caculated and measured, where before when she spoke her words were breathless and enchanting now they were just the empty creations of fortunate genetics. She was only special because of what she had inherited and not because of what she truly was, so Professor Ashworth ceased to be the most gorgeous creature I had ever seen, and Lily stood once again alone with that title.

"Veela eh? No way."

"I didn't realise you didn't know," he took a look at my face, "Oh no, don't look at me like I just shot Santa Claus in front of you!"

"Just shot who?" I asked, narrowing my eyebrows. You must remember, Harry, that I was not raised in a muggle family, and a man who could travel the entire world in a night was no great feat.

"It doesn't matter."

The room which once rang with laughter now felt decidedly more empty despite the many who frequented the Three Broomsticks. Considering the more sobre atmosphere, I didn't crack a joke. Instead, I decided to ask Eris something I hadn't really dwelled much upon before, though I suppose it had always been lurking in the back of my mind.

"Eris?" I began tentatively.

"Yes?" he replied, realising my sudden sincerity as his face relaxed, a previous smile fleeing his face.

"You're an auror now, right? So you can tell me, how bad is it?"

There was a silence for a few seconds. He didn't have to ask me what I meant, he knew. A storm was coming, lightning had struck the first few, the rest were yet to fall.

"It's not good," he said finally in a low voice, "It's not good at all, James. Muggleborns show up on our death tolls too often now, most of the time we can't get there to save them, we can't protect enough either. There aren't enough of us. And V-" he paused. "The Ministry wants us to call him You-Know-Who. I reckon the Minister's scared of him, if I'm honest." Eris was murmuring now, eyes darting around to make sure nobody was watching, that he wasn't being heard execrating our Minister.

"Really?" He nodded gravely.

"Anyway, Voldemort's gathering steam, we've had so many Death Eater sightings recently, there's no way they're all the same ones. These are dangerous times, James. You must promise me you'll be careful."

"I'm always careful!" I joked. Eris didn't laugh.

"I mean don't go looking for trouble like you always do. And don't leave Hogwarts. As long as you're with Dumbledore, at least I know you're safe."

"Alright," I said, standing. "It was nice to see you, Eris." He stood and hugged me, and the two of us made our way to the door, waving to Rosmerta who winked at the both of us.

As we began to part ways, I turned, remembering something.

"Hey Eris?" I called to him, he stopped and turned around. "You ever gonna tell me about the mirror and that loopy Divination teacher you sent us?" Eris let out a laugh and flashed a smile.

"Someday, I promise."

And with a wave and a turn on his heel was gone.

_**A/N: Thanks all for reading, wrote this during a Harry Potter marathon so coulld be awesome because of the overflow of Potter but could be bloody awful considering I was watching TV and typing without a spell check at the same time. **_

_**Read, enjoy and review **_


	65. The Epicentre of Hell

The spring flew quickly by into summer, the charm of school life quite gone with the allure of our Defence teacher gone, and now a need to focus more on other things, on things like the end of year exams, which one could tell were swiftly approaching from the increasing pile of notes beside Remus' bed.

As it did every year, the common room became the epicentre of hell. Suddenly everybody found themselves frenzied at the coming of warmer weather. I sat observing with Hester and Sirius as we observed the madness, quite unable to engross ourselves in schoolwork like the others had.

"Blimey, where did that…?" asked Sirius as a dachshund ran over his lap and began circling one of the legs of the desks behind us. Following it was a short fifth year girl, Josephine Jay, followed by a flurry of howler-type letters dictating to her the basic laws of ancient runes for her OWLs. A large furry claw slipper trod on Sirius and tripped over as arms reached out and grabbed the dog, turning back to notice that she was on the floor splayed out over a third year.

Scrabbling to her knees she hushed the fluttering memos with a flick of her wand and stroked the bewildered dog.

"Calm down, Ziggy, I'm sorry about that," she cooed, stroking his shiny brown fur. Hester gawked at it.

"How'd you manage to get a dog in here? You're only allowed a cat, a toad or an owl!" Shoving me out of the way, Hester went to sit next to Josephine and stroke Ziggy, admiring the beautiful and decidedly canine creature.

"Well Ziggy is a toad, aren't you boy?" Josephine smiled, "Or at least, I transfigure him into one whenever needs be. I was always good at transfiguration, after all. About the only OWL I'm likely to get an Outstanding in."

"That is very impressive," Sirius said, taking Josephine's other side to admire the animal. He kept looking at Hester as he stroked him, wondering if she was noticing his contact with an animal, wondering most likely if she was the kind of mushy girl who fell for that stuff.

She evidently wasn't.

In the meantime, Hester chattered to Jo about her OWLs, about Ziggy and continued to chatter about art and music, before finally one of Josephine's dormant memos hanging behind her head shook itself awake and announced in a loud, clear voice; "Break over!" and so Josephine excused herself and went off to learn her runes.

"You know, we should probably do some work," Hester noted, standing and casting a look around the room at all of the vigilant students with metres and metres of parchment swamping the area around them. "On second thought," she plonked back down on the ground, "Let's not."

It only took ten more minutes of absent conversation for us to stand up again and decide to go the library, where we could get some real work done in peace.

The library however, much to Madam Pince's dismay, was not peaceful. All the overflow from the common rooms had congregated here, and all the shushing in the world could not quieten the din of the whisperings of hundreds of students.

Working through the students, we found ourselves a space of floor in the Care of Magical Creatures section, a little bit away from a frazzled-looking seventh year, pushing long fingers into his messy black hair and murmuring to himself, as if if the words didn't want to get into his head he would have to put them there by force. A hufflepuff tie lay strewn beside him and his cloak hung haphazardly off of one shoulder. Suddenly, taken by a moment of manic rage he slammed the book shut and spat a long stream of German swear-words.

"Who's that?" asked Sirius, frowning over at him.

"Alex Manevitch," Hester explained, "he's a seventh year hufflepuff."

"How do you know him?" Sirius was eyeing the boy.

"Last year I managed to convince him I was sailing to Russia to live with some yurts," she explained with a devious smile. I snorted and Sirius clapped slowly. Alex looked over, his cheeks went furiously red upon noticing Hester and he immediately picked the book back up as if nothing ever happened.

"How did you manage to do that?" I asked, thoroughly impressed.

"Lily helped," she shrugged. In that moment I think both of us might have fallen in love just a little more.

We pulled out a few books as we chatted, and slowly conversation shifted from Hester and Lily's second year antics to the shape of hippogriff claws. Slowly we began to dredge through the year's syllabus, which was much more boring when one wasn't laughing at Professor Kettleburn's new toupee -which was fooling _nobody- _at the same time.

Two hours later, we decided that it was simply too painful to even try and cram any more about flesh-eating slugs into our exhausted brains and that we would all be very happy to simply fail Care of Magical Creatures altogether. After all, none of us had any real intention of caring for any magical creatures in the foreseeable future.

Leaving a still very stressed Alex Manevitch alone, we moved on to the Charms section, were, after showing off the few charms Dumbledore had taught me, we proceeded to try and learn all the charms we had ignored throughout the entire year. This was, perhaps, even more difficult. I asked Hester if maybe Lily would like to come and help us out with them, considering how wonderful she was at Charms, however she was with Remus hidden away in some quieter corner of the school, as I was informed, tackling the difficulties of Arithmancy.

When failing for the fifth time to do a cheering charm on my very gloomy, frantically studying friends, I stood and left Sirius and Hester to be alone, winking at Sirius. _Good luck._

Sirius rolled his eyes. _Not likely. _

I wondered the halls of Hogwarts aimlessly for a bit, walking through classrooms, watching friends studying. In the Great Hall I found Belle and her friends Phoebe Hamilton-Jones and Sasha Charles, all in their matching Ravenclaw blue, pouring over Defence Against the Dark Arts notes. Finding finally the only subject I was good at, I greeted them and clambered onto the bench beside Phoebe, and opposite the other two.

"Can I help?" I asked, looking over the series of diagrams of vampires, labelled and annotated with various facts versus their corresponding conspiracies. Beside me, Phoebe nodded with pleading blue eyes.

"Yes please," she sighed, "I'm not gonna lie, it's pretty grim."

"It's _horrible!_" Belle agreed, pronouncing it in French. Sasha nodded, popping a cough sweet into her mouth and lifting the mug beside her to find it empty. With a frown, she pulled out her wand and uttered an incantation I was fairly certain she had made up herself. To my surprise, her wand emitted a slight whistle and released a steady stream of tea into her cup. Smiling to herself, she lifted it to her lips.

I sat with the girls for a short while, helping them with the simple facts of vampires, with the _Riddikulus _charm and quizzed them on Hinkypunks before Phoebe started yawning beside me, stretching out her arms and resting her head on the table, atop a textbook open to Werewolves.

"C'mon Phoebs," Sasha insisted, filling the dainty teacup beside her with some of the tea from her wand. "Some caffeine will do you good." But Phoebe was already asleep. I took this as my cue to leave and this time to not be drawn into studying.

Though the hour was approaching seven, it was still light outside, and the best visibility we'd had in weeks, much better than the final of Ravenclaw v Slytherin where Ravenclaw suffered a crushing defeat due to the rain. Suddenly, all I wanted to do was fly. I wanted to leave the troubles of exams and studying behind me on the ground, to lift off and forget it all in the rush of wind and adrenaline which came with my broom.

So I made for the broom cupboard, opening the door to be greeted by the much-missed smell of wood and polish and well flown, well loved brooms. Carefully, I picked my own Nimbus out of the bunch and stroked it slowly, watching as the little golden words, _JP, Chaser, _appeared under my fingertips.

"Hello, old friend," I breathed, gripping it and running outside.

I didn't wait to reach the pitch before I took off, I only needed to be a few feet out of the building before the need was too much for me to take, before I had to kick off and feel the thrill of feet no longer meeting ground with each stride but air instead, before I had to feel the wind biting my cheeks again, before it whipped my cloak around behind me and tousled my hair and welcomed me into its airy embrace.

I was not alone on the pitch. One other girl flew on one of the school Cleansweeps. She was a Slytherin, fourth year I was pretty sure. I knew her name was Layla, and that she was half Indian half Irish though she didn't have an accent, that she liked to play loud, screeching music in the corridors and that she was in a Wrock band playing guitar. What I couldn't figure out was what she could possibly be doing on the Quidditch pitch when she most certainly did not play.

I approached her and hovered in the air, waiting until she pulled up beside me and did the same.

"Potter," she greeted me with more warmth than I expected, considering I was a Gryffindor chaser and therefore- for all intents and purposes- the enemy.

"Layla," I replied. "What are you doing out here?"

"Need a little fresh air." She admitted. "You?"

"Same." We sat for a moment on our brooms. There were no words to say really, no ordinary conversation for a Gryffindor and a Slytherin who shared no classes and no friends, especially when neither was in the mood to insult the other. Then, Layla perked up with an idea.

"You got that snitch you won of Regulus Black on you by any chance?" she asked, smiling. Feeling for it in my pocket, I brought out my golden winged friend in answer. Holding it between my thumb and forefinger, it spread its wings obediently, feeling that a game was in the air.

"Wanna play a few rounds?" I asked and she nodded.

So we played until the sun went down, a friendly game of Seekers as it had come to be known after the little showdown at the beginning of the year. We soon forgot the labels of Slytherin and Gryffindor, of Chaser and fan, even of name as we played a game between two people who just needed a little fresh air. Though it meant nothing, I imagine it was probably the most fun I had had all day, including the time spent with Sirius and Hester.

Layla wasn't as deft on her broom as I was, but she was smaller and lighter than I, so she went slightly faster. It didn't matter that I won every round anyway, however, it wasn't about the game or the competition it was about the joint flying of the light minded.

We played as many games as we could, knowing that the moment our feet touched ground again the stress would pull us back into its clutches.

_**A/N: Suffering from severe writer's block, so I decided that to remedy that I would end the third year, quite substantial in its word count already, soon to try and kick start my brain again. Also, my updates will be sporadic as, once again, I have exams. Oh the toils of a GCSE student!**_

_**Nonetheless, if you enjoyed this chapter feel free to tell me so, if you have constructive criticism or have found your name in this chapter (written, in all honesty, for my current exam-crazed friends) then do review! **_


	66. The Persistence of Exams

_**Dedicated to the real Hester Lavington, who is now sixteen and a wonderful birthday girl.**_

Exams descended upon us like a black fog, blinding and choking, seizing our throats and shaking us until when released we found ourselves dizzy and our hearts pounding. Hell and chaos were words jokingly used to describe each house's respective common rooms but their grave reality did not go amiss for all who entered them.

People became agitated, teachers were very explicitly cursed for their inability to teach a certain subject, hair was pulled and glasses were straightened and endless streams of tea were shot from wands whilst endless notes grew blotchy as collateral.

The more exams timetabled the less funny jokes got, the less time was available for raids of the kitchens and the less time we spent pranking Snivellus. Sentences ingrained themselves in our brains and before our eyes words written in scratchy quill swam against their background of frantic students. The last things we thought about at night were revision techniques and the idea of not finishing an exam plagued our dreams.

For Remus things became almost unbearable. He had taken as many subjects as were allowed, including missing certain periods of lessons here and there so that he may attend other classes. He spent most of his time wandering around like a frazzled ghost, glasses askew on his nose and his hair uncharacteristically messy, parchment always exploding out of his bag and stuffed under his arms and he was running, always running, to some exam or study session.

Now in our third year of exams and our third attempt, Sirius and I had been repeatedly threatened about our impending assessments. Bad results, we had been told, bad consequences. It was no question that the consequences for Sirius would be considerably worse but out of respect for him I studied equally as hard.

Peter was a wreck. The boy burst out into tears every five seconds, realising the exact extent of his magical inability. Charms fizzled out of the end of his wand reluctantly and usually dropped like embers in a sad arc to the floor, content to die. His previous essays sported horrendous penmanship and marks to match in disapproving red ink. With each turn of the page of a textbook Peter grew more and more worrisome, shrieking as he came across a topic he simply hadn't heard of.

Whilst usually we would have put aside the time for Peter and his struggles, this was not possible this year. This was get-your-act-together-or-you're-out year, this was it's-revision-or-another-trip-to-the-headmaster year. What was that your friend Hermione once said, Harry? Killed or worse expelled? That was how it felt, like we would rather take an execution over one more Dreadful.

I couldn't imagine then what it would be like in fifth year. If this was the stress of a few internal exams what would the stress of OWLs, exams which determined our wizarding careers, be like? That was perhaps the only humbling thought in my state of absolute self-absorption, that it could be worse.

When finally the day of exams came, every single student looked a wreck. Fresh faces were things of long forgotten photographs and had now been replaced with sunken, bloodshot eyes and blank expressions. Laughter and wit was replaced with mumblings of this spell or that. Carefree first years would be hissed at as they passed, any one that dared complained about their exams had effectively sentenced themselves to death-by-snark.

And so it began.

History of Magic came first, a gruelling two hour paper on the Witch Hunts, which included two essays and a personal statement of the effect of the witch hunts on your own or a friend's family and how they therefore must be prevented. I could practically hear the fury of the Slytherins' quills, insisting that they must be prevented by the enforced subservience of muggles. I wondered how many marks that would receive.

Such a thought was only held for a moment however before I returned concentration to my paper, unsure of how to ease my aching hand and writing with a grimace, forcing through the pain. Of all the forms of torture I think continuous writing is severely underrated.

This thought was reiterated again and again in the writing portions of all of the rest of my exams, after which Remus would dispense his many enchanted muggle stress balls which he had filled with some kind of elixir which flowed oozed with each squeeze and released the cramps. After their wild popularity the first time around, we had begun to charge for them so, despite the exams we were making a pretty fortune.

As we sold them after the Defence Against the Dark Arts paper, Hester sauntered up with the sweetest of looks on her face, rubbing her thumb up her palm in slow, deliberate strokes. She looked decidedly better than the rest of us, having decided that the best method of revision was last minute cramming and so had gotten a better night's sleep.

"Hey Black, wouldn't have a spare one of those would you?" she asked, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. He cast a sidelong look at me and I shook my head by a fraction. With a grin he threw one to her anyway and winked, which caused a roar from the crowd counting out their sickles.

"Just for you, darlin'," he said, ignoring my sigh as he watched for her reaction. It seemed to me like a mixture of confusion and disgust but somehow he seemed to take it as a compliment when she half-smiled and held it up in a sort of 'cheers mate' gesture, turning awkwardly and walking away. Spotting red hair on the outskirts of the crowd, I called to Lily.

"Hey Evans!" she turned around and looked at me expectantly, and I held up one of the stress balls, a bright red one. She walked over.

"You know, I think it's awful how you're capitalising on the pain of your fellows," she said scornfully.

"And yet you are perfectly happy to take one anyway," I sighed, "whatever happened to standing up to the administration?" Lily shrugged.

"These things are live savers, Remus is a genius," and with that she was lost in the crowd and the red stress ball gone from my hand. I had no recollection of her taking it, which saddened me, because I had been looking forward to the moment her hand brushed mine.

"Alright folks, that's it for today," Sirius roared over the crowd, "we'll have some more for you after the Herbology paper tomorrow morning," there was a communal groan from all of those with wrists still aching, a few who had seen the exchanged with Hester and Lily at the front complained loudly but Sirius only shrugged and grabbed my wrist, pulling me sharply away before a brawl could be started by the exam crazed pupils.

"Everyone's gone proper mental!" he exclaimed, casting a look behind him at the flood of exhausted students.

"It's like you've never seen it before," I replied with a sigh, "People go mental every year Siri. Now, you, me, Herbology and some chocolate frogs in the dorm. I can't stand the Common Room any more." Sirius nodded and we ran for the Gryffindor tower.

The dorm was the only quiet place in the school, and as such had been adopted by Sirius and me as our new study space. With open Herbology textbooks and countless notes written on various scraps of paper stuck up around the room, we would quiz each other for hours on the uses of this root and that leaf, always with the gratuitous consumption of teeth-rotting quantities of chocolate and sherbet lemons, provided by Dumbledore in the Great Hall with a constantly replenishing supply each time the bowls in the middle of the tables emptied. _Making exams a bit sweeter, _he said. Nobody refuted his attempts.

The practical exams became like a blissful escape, I had never had much trouble mastering the simple spells of the third year. That was, except for Potions where even in exams Snivellus seemed intent on showing me up. I shared a desk with Hannah Oliver, an exceptionally pretty Hufflepuff with bewitched violet hair and green eyes. She rolled her eyes at me as Slughorn turned over his egg timer and the exam began.

We both started on our Confusion Concoctions in silence, avoiding eyes as we began to chop Venomous Tentacula roots and pepper them lightly into a simmering pot of Billywig sting slime. Slowly however, she clearly began to get bored as no matter how much she stirred and added various powders the draught refused to thicken. Instead, she took to carving something into the table with her small scalpel.

On the other side of the room, Snivellus' hand shot up. _Dear God please tell me he hasn't already finished. _It was possible to finish well within the allotted hour, considering that the total simmer and brewing time only amounted to about twenty minutes, but that meant that he had taken practically no time at all cutting and preparing ingredients and had definitely made _no _errors.

With a nod he was dismissed, and he gathered up his things, depositing a vial of his draught on Slughorn's desk for marking. As he did so he turned ever so slightly so that he caught my eye and narrowed his eyes for a second, a smug expression on his face. Then he was gone, out the door and free.

Huffing I turned back to Hannah to see the creation she had etched into the wooden table. As she moved her hand I saw that it was a striking likeness of a mermaid, the romanticised ones you saw in picture books and on tapestries rather than the monstrosities that lived in the Black Lake. As I watched, she drew out her wand covertly and tapped it with it.

"_Inanimatus Conjurus,_" she hissed, and at her command the mermaid's tail immediately began to sway fluidly side to side, and with a proud flick of its hand pushed back its straggly carved hair to fall behind its wooden shoulder. I smiled, admiring her work as she set about drawing her mermaid a friend.

With much difficulty and just before the hour was up, I managed to finally balance the ratio of Billywig slime to Confuddling powder, the potion thickening nicely and turning an alarming shade of pink. With a smile I poured a few spoonfuls into a crystalline vial and brought it up to the front of the room, ducking out of a classroom still half-full with students who had given up on the extremely difficult potion. You didn't pass that exam either, did you Harry? But then again you had Snivelly as a teacher…

In Defence Against the Dark Arts I met Ketaki Zodgekar, a Ravenclaw and one of the members of the toad choir. She liked to listen to muggle music and could often be heard humming a ditty by _the_ _Beatles. _Rumour had it she had gone to the Cavern with her parents once and listened to them play, but she would have been too young to really remember. More recently she had started a line of people with goblets in the Great Hall, banging them against tables in the same rhythm and singing a tune to go with it.

"You ready, Potter?" she asked in her New Zealand accent, which always had a way of taking me by surprise. Ketaki was Indian and had lived in New Zealand, so I always found it somewhat ironic that two such exciting heritages had converged to meet here, in the drab countryside of Scotland. Apparently New Zealand's wizarding education did not rival the quality of Hogwarts under Albus Dumbledore's teaching.

"Bring it on, Zod," I said. Ketaki was a seventh year taking Defence Against the Dark Arts in preparation for her Auror training. This meant that as revision, she was helping Professor Ashworth with her practical exams. At this very moment, she was holding the door handle to the cupboard which contained the boggart. Looking over for the nod of approval from Ashworth, she opened the door.

The whole class knew what to expect, and this time everybody wondered what I was about to do when all of their corpses appeared.

This time, to maximise fear, the boggart lined up as each one next to each other, all of the people I loved dead in a row like a line-up. Without even flinching, however, and never allowing myself to look at the one dead in front of me with scarlet hair lest I lose my nerve, I flicked my wand and shouted _Riddikulus!_

Almost immediately, the corpses of my peers were dancing zombies the likes of you kids' Michael Jackson had never seen. The class relaxed finally and everybody cheered for me as I completed the charm, forcing the thing back into its closet with an uproar of laughter as the corpses formed a kick line, and then a sad Konga back to where they came from.

Charms, however, as expected, did not go well. _Cheering charms_, I thought darkly to myself. Cheering charms during the most _un-_cheerful time of the school year. It was like they were trying to make it extra-special-super difficult for us all to pass. Try practising a cheering charm on a stressed third year doing more exams than they had ever experienced. It will not go well, unless of course, you are Lily Evans.

I am not Lily Evans. (Just clarifying)

But somehow, as quickly as they had begun they were over, leaving everybody feeling trampled like they had just been caught in a stampede. There had been whisperings when exams started of a party to celebrate their ending, but by the time we reached that point everybody was far too tired to stay up and drink gratuitous amounts of firewhiskey and simply forget. Instead, we invited Hester and her roommates to come to our dorms- despite Lily's protestation- and celebrate with smuggled butterbeer and Wizard's Chess.

We headed there straight after the Care of Magical Creatures practical, positively floored after the efforts of the last week. Simply dragging our feet up the stairs felt like a marathon. The eight of us threw ourselves on any available space in the room. Hester flew to Sirius' bed whilst Sophia took mine, Peter sat on his own alone, Sirius sat at the foot of his bed looking up at Hester, I lay comically spread eagled on the ground before sitting up and against my own bed beside Elena Stagni, the one of Lily's roommates who I didn't know all to well. She spent most of her time with Rick who had become somewhat enamoured by her, and talked about her obsessively during Quidditch practice. Remus and Lily sat on Remus' bed and I stared at them in jealousy. Well, at least Lily was close to me.

With very little energy for much ado, Sirius brought out the butterbeer and some fizzing whizzbees, handing them out as we all enjoyed in silence for a while. Then, Lily, Elena and Sophia pulled out lumpy parcels from their cloaks.

"So, shall we do it now?" Lily asked Remus. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Do what?" Narrowing her eyes Lily gestured towards Hester, who was grinning widely. Us boys still didn't understand until Sirius' hand flew to his head in realisation.

"Hester! It's your birthday!" A moment of horror swelled as we realised that we had accidentally arranged a birthday party and forgotten a cake, decorations, presents and most importantly, the birthday.

"Don't worry guys, I didn't expect you to get me anything, just thanks for hanging out with me," she shrugged and smiled, and in the meantime whilst we apologised profusely the girls sat about giving their gifts, showering Hester in mugs and jewellery and scarves and the like, giggling and hugging her as pits in our stomachs grew larger.

Finally, after the third, overcompensating round of 'Happy Birthday', Sirius stood and took the space beside Hester.

"I forgot to get you a present," he said apologetically, "and I know you're turning fourteen," Hester shrugged. She tried to tell him it didn't matter but he interrupted her. "I hope this will do," raising his wand, Sirius flicked the air. At the point of impact appeared a drop of something silvery.

As we watched the drop thickened and elongated, drawing out like unicorn blood into a large mass of something silver which hovered over to Hester, not much of anything until she touched it. With her touch the odd liquid disappeared, sliding up to reveal the long stems of fourteen silver roses. Not the kind of rose which was dusted with glitter or doused in paint. They were almost white but glimmered silver in the light. Like divine flowers.

Hester gasped as they fell into her lap, fully formed and breathtaking. Sirius just smiled at her delight. She looked at him with a grin and suddenly, as if seized by some moment of insanity and terrible judgement, and forgetting the other six people in the room, Sirius grabbed her head between his hands and planted a kiss right on her lips.

Then, realising what he'd done he pulled away, horrified. It had happened so quickly most of us weren't sure it had happened at all, and the room was suddenly still, waiting for Hester's reaction. At first, she shook her head. Then, a smile slowly crept onto her lips. Which turned to a laugh. She laughed a little at first and then harder, the kind of laugh that made everybody else laugh around you even though they aren't sure what it is that's so funny.

Sirius stood stark still and terrified, trying to relax. He feigned a smile but still look confused. Why was she laughing? Hester looked up at him with a gleam in her eye.

"You're going to have to try harder than that," she explained, cocking her eyebrow.

_**A/N: IT'S BEEN SO LONG! I'm so sorry, guys, only exam revision called and so I had ZERO time for this fanfic. For the astute amongst you I did upload a new story called 'The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore' because I needed to get it out of my head, but that's almost over so I can go back to giving this one my undivided attention. If any of you want however, I will link it below. Nonetheless EXAMS ARE OVER UNTIL APRIL so you will have me regularly again until then.**_

_**Love you all, thank you for bearing with me :) please keep reading and reviewing for me x**_

_**Life and Lies: s/8780744/1/The-Life-and-Lies-of-Albus-Dumbledore  
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	67. And The Curtain Falls On The Third

Everything changes for those few summer months when we don't think about school at all. We shift focus from Charms homework to Quidditch games and seasides and what time we sleep in until. Personally, I couldn't wait for the summer, but as we pulled up in front of it I felt an odd nostalgia for the three years past.

"I miss Hogwarts, sometimes," I admitted wistfully to Sirius as we wondered through Hogwarts' halls before the final feast. I dragged my hand along a tapestry, gaining a glare from the woven dragon which it depicted being slain. Having distracted the beast the knight had jumped on it and was now wielding his sword. I felt little pity for the dragon. The knight had been trying to kill him for over a century to no avail.

"I know what you mean," Sirius agreed, "feels a bit like home now, doesn't it?" I nodded.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay with us the _whole _summer?" I asked, for the eighteenth time that day. Sirius was going to join us on the Italian leg of our summer holiday, but he had declined the invitation to not return to Grimmauld Place at all.

"I told you mate, I've got to go home first or my parents'll kill me," he shrugged and cast his eyes down to the floor so I couldn't see his sorrow. When he looked up his eyes were bright again, as if the abuse of his home life didn't bother him. I pretended I hadn't noticed that it did.

"Well if you change your mind…"

"I know, I know, Greece, Germany and then Italy, you wrote down all the places that I can find you, I won't need to Jamie," he assured me. However, after last year's surprise arrival at my house I didn't want Sirius to be left in the same position with nowhere to go. I couldn't help but worry for him, not after all I'd seen after the last few years. "I'll be fine, Jamie," he said again, for the eighteenth time. I wasn't sure I believed him.

I didn't have time to argue however, as Hester joined us. She smiled at the two of us over her new glasses- which she insisted she needed though Sirius insisted that she wore them to look smarter than the rest of us. Reminded of this I smiled and pushed my own glasses up my nose.

"Hey Hester," I said with a smile, regarding her uniform. Hester had a certain disregard for the rules which didn't go as far as our pranking but was certainly enough to make her more attractive to Sirius. Today instead of her usual skirt from Madam Malkin's she wore a black pleated thing. Layered white-on-orange socks on top of tights protruded from black boots and instead of wearing her robe she wore a cardigan. In fact the only thing that remained the same was her shirt and tie, which was tied haphazardly around her neck so the lower side was longer than the upper and stuck out offensively.

"How does McGonagall not have a fit when she sees you dressed like that?" Sirius asked incredulously.

"She's sent home so many letters this year I think she's realised it's of no use," Hester shrugged. "She doesn't realise half of them don't get to my parents."

"How'd you manage that?" I asked. If Hester had figured out some ingenious way of giving the Hogwarts' owls the wrong address I would have been happy to have heard it. I had been trying for years to figure out a way to stop them on their tireless mission to inform my parents of the wrong I have done but every attempt had been futile.

"Oh it's not me, my great-granddad established a wizarding ferry system in South-East Asia. My parents live on the boats when I'm at school so they don't stay in the same place very long." I cocked an eyebrow.

"A wizarding ferry system? Can't wizards just apparate?" Hester shook her head.

"Every time I tell someone they ask me that. Tell me, James, you ever tried apparating? Or you, Sirius?" We both shook our heads, "Didn't think so. Let me just tell you, it makes you nauseous, it's really hard and in many cases people leave limbs behind. Many wizards prefer safer means of travel."

"So a ferry system?" I suggested.

"So a ferry system," she confirmed. "That's where I'm spending my summer, learning how to man the ships. Also means I can get some sailing done, I miss the water," she sighed. Sirius nudged her.

"Will you miss me?" he asked, a cheeky smile on his face. Hester paused for a moment, pondering the statement, then shrugged.

"I don't reckon so, the merpeople are probably better company," she huffed a laugh, "their grindylows are probably better company come to think of it." Sirius elbowed her and she laughed. Something about the sentence, however, struck me as odd.

"How much do you know about merpeople?" I asked curiously. I had found very little on them in my copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, _having read through it many times in preparation for the Care of Magical Creatures exam to find that not much was known about them at all.

"There are some in the Indian Ocean," she said nonchalantly, "I've got a few friends there. I'd tell you their names but people don't tend to appreciate Mermish above water, I suppose they would translate closest to Poppy, Jacob and Eliot." We stopped walking and stared at her in shock.

"You _know _merpeople?" Sirius asked incredulously. Hester nodded.

"Oh yes, the Indian merpeople are nothing like the Selkies or the ones that live in the Black Lake. They're much nicer to humans they just don't like to be studied so they're more private. In fact, I probably shouldn't tell you more, they wouldn't like that." Stunned and amazed, neither of us could argue.

"Shame about the House Cup this year," she continued as if she hadn't just revealed to us that she was friends with one of the most secret civilisations in the wizarding world, "though I'm glad Ravenclaw won rather than Slytherin."

"Yeah, could you imagine the look on Snivelly's face if he beat us?" I agreed. Sirius shuddered at the thought.

"Oh god," he said, "he'd probably smile and then we'd have to see his _teeth, _at least that's what I think those yellow runes in his mouth are called." I laughed, before remembering that Hester was a friend of Lily's, who was a friend of Snape's. The two of us looked over nervously at her.

"Oh guys, his teeth aren't that bad," she said pityingly, "it's his breath you have to watch out for." Taken aback by her sharp tongue, the two of us burst into hysterics. We were still laughing as we entered the Great Hall and sat down, being some of the last in. Remus, Peter and Lily had saved us seats whilst Elena sat up at the other end of the table with Rick and his friends.

The hall was adorned in blue in celebration of the Ravenclaw victory, and their normally quietened table of tense and intellectual conversation was decidedly rowdier than usual, with occasional 'whoops' and cheers from scattered groups.

When finally we had all sat down, Professor Dumbledore stood up at the lectern to announce the winner of the House Cup, which came with the rapturous applause of two other houses as well as Ravenclaw, all thinking _at least it's not Slytherin._

But Dumbledore had a message for us which surpassed the importance of the House Cup.

"My friends," he began to our surprise, "for I do consider you much dearer to me than simply my students, I am anxious this year to let you go." This was not the expected beginning of a joyful end to the year as we had all anticipated, and there was a sudden tension in the room as Dumbledore continued.

"You hear the warnings of an old man often enough, that dark times are upon us. I fear you dismiss them too soon," there was a snigger from the Slytherin table, which rang clearly out in the silence. It sounded ominous and foreboding. "But times are indeed dark," Dumbledore raised his voice, shooting a disapproving glance towards the Slytherin table. "I warn you all to be vigilant this summer, especially the special amongst you, upon which magic was bestowed and not inherited."

"Mudbloods," I heard the word whispered from Regulus Black.

"And for those of you who do not see this as a threat," Dumbledore teetered dangerously on the edge of shouting at the disregard of the furthest table with their green and silver striped ties, "I urge you to hold your contempt. It is fear and hate that is the cause of unnecessary death, fear and hate are the stem of evil. We must not allow these two things to overcome the good I know in all of you. The love I have seen in each one of you talented and bright youths."

"So again a word of caution, and I hope very much to see you all next year. Have a good summer, and let the feast begin."

The atmosphere was subdued for the rest of the night as everybody mulled over what Dumbledore had had to say. Hogwarts, as I have said, had been the place where we could all distance ourselves from the world. There was no war outside the walls as long as you didn't believe there was one, there were no casualties if you didn't skip to the last few pages of the _Prophet. _But now Dumbledore had reminded us that the year was over. That we were about to return to the world.

A world at war. The kind of war fought behind closed doors. The kind of war where one side fought with nuclear bombs whilst the other defended themselves with sticks. Three quarters of us were on the weaker side, and it was our morals, our very lack of fear and hate and vulnerability to the intoxicating call of the dark that made us so.

And here we were, stepping right back out into the crossfire.

The pumpkin juice tasted sour that night and the food was ashen in our mouths as we slowly became to realise the world in which we lived. The world where the news was always the same, an ongoing list of terror.

And yet somehow we managed to find joy in that last morning at Hogwarts. Because the thing about the world is that often it's terrifying and large and threatening. And most of the time it's trying to kill us, but we have friends, and through some miracle they help us forget the multitude of possibilities of ways we could die.

"You got an extra stack of homework just in case you get bored this holiday then?" I asked Remus with a smirk as we loaded our bags into the carts which took us to Hogsmeade. He nodded with a wide smile.

"And some extra reading, of course," he added with a laugh. "You know, James, I might actually miss your constant bombardment of teasing this summer." He elbowed me softly.

"You know, Remus, I might actually miss you doing all my homework."

"I'll miss you too, James, I'll write to you every week," Peter piped up. "And of course you too Remus… and Sirius." Remus smiled brightly at him whilst Sirius inclined his head slightly, evidently not delighted by the prospect of being flooded by Peter's incomprehensible letters.

These were my friends, I thought with a smile as I watched them. These were the people I couldn't wait to return to next year, these were the people who made it so easy to forget mortality. I leant back in the carriage and enjoyed the rest of the ride to the station.

And next year, we could forget all over again.

_**A/N: And there we have it, the end of the year. This year was shorter than the last but less tedious I feel. Sorry I'm still being sporadic with the updates I'll try to fix that. I promise you however, that I will try my hardest to finish this story, if only because I have wonderful plans for the last few years and the last chapter.**_

_**I would like to take a moment to thank you all again, my wonderful readership, for sticking with James and me this year as we faced the highs and lows of Hogwarts, and for reading, reviewing and stirring me on, some as you did last year and the newcomers who have been doing so splendidly this year. You are why I continue. **_

_**Till next year x**_


	68. The Marauders Reunited

Unlike the year before, Sirius did not show up for an impromptu visit during the summer, much to my disappointment, but instead arrived right on schedule in Italy, where he was greeted by the sun and my mother with a large plate of food for him, sitting him down at the table of our modest villa immediately with a glass of pumpkin juice and a large bowl of spaghetti in true Italian style.

Nobody commented on his weight as he ate ravenously, nobody pointed out that his trousers were falling from his shrunken hips or that through the vest he was wearing his ribs and spine were visible. My dad noted how he'd grown again and my mum agreed, saying he was probably taller than me now, everyone pretended not to notice.

He looked less beaten and bruised than he had last year, but I also knew that he had gotten better at healing charms this year, and I hadn't missed the viols Remus had snuck Sirius as we pulled into King's Cross station last year.

So, when walking through the streets of Forte behind my parents, I tried again to ask him what happened there.

"It's nothing mate, really," he said with a weak smile and a wave of his hand. I looked at him skeptically. "Not like last time," he assured me, "they ignored me this time, for the most part," he kept the smile on his face, as if he wasn't talking about starvation.

"Sirius, if things were this bad," I gestured at his sunken cheeks and protruding ribs, "why didn't you come?" Sirius shook his head.

"I can't leave them, Jamie," he explained with a sad smile, the kind a parent uses when explaining the inevitability that one day they won't be there any more. "It's worse when I leave them. It was horrible after I legged it last time…" he trailed off. He had said too much. Quickly he tried to change the subject. "You seen the _Prophet_?"

"Haven't had the heart," I admitted, "I don't want to see a name I recognise." Sirius nodded in agreement.

"Too many muggleborns I like, too many to keep track of, too many to care about. They've stopped accumulating all the names over a week, they ran out of space. They'll only keep a person's name on the list for a few days now before they're bunked off. They're spreading out, getting some of Wales and Ireland." That was another thing. The threat had ceased to be a he. Now it was a they.

"It's really a war, isn't it?" I murmured, and Sirius agreed.

"A war fought in shadows. This is a coward's war," a fire burned in his eyes, a hatred of the Death Eaters, especially those he knew, whose cowardice was reflected in their night raids and their immense numbers against the few and their terrorism, in their reluctance to come out and face the rest of us like warriors.

"Any news from Dromeda and Ted?" I asked, our only link to the Auror's office, Sirius' cousin was our main source of information apart from what the _Daily Prophet _was printing- or not printing as had been the case, in order to not cause a scare quite yet.

"Nothing good, the Auror numbers are dwindling, they're taking more and more students to try and compensate, lowering the grade boundaries for Defence Against the Dark Arts NEWTs. But really they're just putting less qualified people in the field too early." I winced at the thought of someone fresh out of school being faced with three, maybe four Death Eaters, none of which had any qualms about doing dark magic.

Bringing a hand to my forehead I squinted against the sudden stab of the sun's light through a crack between quaint whitewashed houses. A pair of girls on bicycles rolled by, ringing their bells and waving, giggling. With the heavy conversation we had just had, a wondered in awe how it was possible they didn't notice, how none of the muggles noticed, the lives the world was losing in such masses.

_People die every day, _I reminded myself. Most of them not in secret wars. But so many of them still lost their lives, many more than the few our little community lost. And yet nobody had the capacity to care about the millions against the odd one or two who were more special to them.

"Let's not talk about this now, Jamie," Sirius said, seeing how the topic had stressed me.

"It's fine," I assured him, "I just feel so helpless sometimes. I wish I could grown up already, be an Auror, fight this battle, see this Voldemort locked up," Sirius flinched at the name. I frowned at him. "What was that?" I asked. He looked at me feebly, he clearly didn't want to say. I continued to stare at him until he answered.

"We aren't supposed to say his name," he murmured, almost inaudibly. This was the real threat. The fear Voldemort instilled in the public was his greatest weapon. It would be of no use to him to lead a community of people he had killed, but people who _feared _that he would kill them, they would be much more compliant. Not saying his name was the beginning.

"Voldemort." I said assertively, and then dropped the subject, still spitting and steaming, leaving it to be picked up when it had cooled.

The two girls who had passed us earlier rode by again, giggling even louder than the last time. Suddenly I realised that they had been following us, daring each other in excitable Italian to talk to the attractive English boys. Fearlessly, one waved over, before the momentary brazenness was gone and she blushed violently when Sirius waved back. Silently, we confirmed these two to be our distraction.

And so we spent the remainder of the summer being young and reckless whilst we still had the chance. The girls had rapid Italian names we soon forgot amongst the flurry of other girls with equally foreign names and lips and liquor, all willing to be thrown into the bubbling concoction that was to be our summer. By the time it was time to return home to London, Sirius was once again well fed and well built, with a larger grin on his face as he reminisced of encounters with girls he never knew.

Neither of us mentioned Hester or Lily. They were the unobtainable, and whilst our entire Hogwarts careers we would aim for them we were by no means expected by them or anybody else to cease any other activity which didn't include them. If anything, it was encouraged in an unspoken way, a sort of understanding that the girls wouldn't be kissing us, but we should by all means be free to kiss.

Both of our Hogwarts letters were waiting for us when we arrived back home, and we opened them excitedly, impatient to return back to the wizarding world after having spent so much time amongst muggles, picking our words carefully. They came with an extensive shopping list and the thrill of a trip to Diagon Alley.

Sirius had his own vault in Gringotts, he had set it up with the money his Uncle Alphard had left him after his death. It seemed Black family rebels stuck together, there was one in every generation. Sirius collected his money from there whilst I went alone to mine. Though I knew that Sirius' own family had a vast amount of wealth and that he had probably seen a vault like mine before, I was uncomfortable having access to mine whilst he could only dream of his. We met outside afterwards, coin pouches heavy and jingling, eagerly awaiting the spending to come.

We started off at Madam Malkin's, as both of us had grown again over the summer and our robes were too short.

"Don't you boys ever stop growing?" she asked almost disapprovingly as with a flick of her wand the sleeves on the robe Sirius was trying on shortened to a perfect length. We shook our heads and smiled.

Next to Flourish and Blotts, where the primary chunk of our list insisted we go. Fourth year required quite a few books, including an extra book on identifying ingredients and technique in Potions, two extra History of Magic textbooks on the history of French and African wizards as well as the British, and four new Defence Against the Dark Arts books.

"Blimey, this is a lot of reading to do in one year," Sirius grunted as he lifted his bag full of books onto his shoulder. "What's up with the Defence workload this year?"

"Professor Ashworth left," I reminded him, we had seen her with the rest of her Veela family during one of our exploits in Italy, whereupon she had thanked us for our constant "encouragement" she called it, though we thought of it more as flirting, and apologised that she would not be returning next year. It seemed that since everybody had found out that she was Veela, nobody had taken Professor Ashworth seriously. She became so upset with her situation that she resigned and came back home.

This meant, once again, that there was to be a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and apparently one who was very big on homework.

Without the supervision of our parents, Sirius and I decided the more mature and adult choice to eat lunch was undeniably Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, so the two of us sat down to have a nice frozen and creamy imitation of shepherd's pie and mashed potato with a side of peas and waited for Remus and Peter, who had both written saying they were also coming to buy their school books today.

Remus arrived first, promptly, as we sat down, his books in his hand. He was beaming.

"Have you seen these books?" he asked excitedly once the formalities of 'hello's and 'how were your holiday's were out of the way. With an exasperated sigh we both nodded.

"Yes, Remus, there are a lot of them. Isn't is wonderful?" Sirius spoke in a clearly mocking monotone, but Remus ignored it. Of course, a stack of books on the persecution of witches in Africa to this day was probably equal to how we felt whenever England won a match in the Quidditch World Cup.

"But have you read them? They all look fascinating, we'll be doing some really interesting spells this year!" trust Remus to be excited for the _academic _part of Hogwarts. Me, I was looking forward to a certain redhead with a flair for insulting me and hexing me before a compliment had fully passed my lips.

Thankfully, Peter didn't arrive long after to join us as we tried to convince Remus that no, school was not fun and no, neither was reading the innumerable books we were lagging around. Finally he threw his hands in the air and sighed, digging in to his ice cream lunch with a shrug that meant we'd never understand.

I enjoyed that afternoon. I had missed this over the holidays, the easy back and forth of four friends. Even in silence we all had something shared between us, a sort of connection which made our ties with each other so strong they were almost impenetrable, and yet so effortless they were welcoming to those on the outside. We were more than some club where members had to be approved. We had no selection process, it was simply chance that threw us four into a dorm.

But we were a family, and so for most others that made them jealous and they called us elitist. They pointed fingers and called us arrogant, told us it was unfair for us not to include them.

They simply didn't understand. We didn't try to be, we just were. Marauders by blood.

_**A/N: Hello, I am tired so this might be a bad chapter I am just too delirious to tell. **_

_**This year is going to be darker than the others as the Marauders prepare to face the war that is about to directly affect them. Soon we will see combat training, tensions between the Slytherins rising, the formation of the Order of the Phoenix and maybe even an attack. The story of the Marauders is, in the end, a tragedy, and so it will begin to get more tragic. Enjoy the light-hearted fun where you can find it but no longer expect it to be a constant.**_

_**Nonetheless, I hope this chapter isn't too terrible, review if you think it is. Or isn't. Just review will you my lovelies? Almost 200 now! x**_


	69. The Fourth Begins

We arrived by taxi to King's Cross station, wearing wide grins. We had said goodbye to my parents back in Diagon Alley before they went off to the Ministry of Magic, who undoubtedly would be sending them off to some far off place to do whatever it was that they did.

As we lugged our trunks from the boot, I spotted Peter waiting at the door of the station. He was luggage-less. Evidently he had come early, put his bags away and then come back to see us. Sometimes I thought that boy was too keen, but most of the time it was nice to have somebody's undivided attention.

"Peter!" I exclaimed with a wide grin, throwing an arm around him as we approached. Sirius' greeting was less that enthusiastic, but he wasn't heard. Peter only beamed, half-hugging me back before letting go, his hand then occupied by the large bag I had just swung into it. Well, he wasn't carrying anything else…

Staggering slightly at its weight, Peter frowned at the bag.

"What's in it?" he asked.

"Sustenance," I winked, tapping my nose. Gleefully, Peter plunged a podgy hand into the bag, grappling with it as it threatened to fall from his shoulder.

"Can't you wait five minutes you oaf?" Sirius snapped, and Peter looked over at him with a wounded pout that acquired no sympathy from Sirius. "How are these muggles going to feel if a frog made of chocolate jumps on their head?" Sulkily, Peter withdrew his hand from the bag and zipped it up. For the rest of the walk to the platform he was sullen.

I nudged Sirius. Whilst he had been right, it wasn't fair of him to be so harsh on Peter. Whilst, I agree, most of the time he could be monumentally idiotic, the more Sirius pushed his buttons about it the more he might be inclined to turn against Sirius. To turn against Sirius was to turn against all of us. Peter knew every detail of every prank we had ever pulled off, knew where our new Firewhiskey stash was to be this year, knew that we were preparing to complete an offence which was punishable by a sentence in Azkaban.

Sirius sighed. "Sorry," he mumbled, but Peter just harrumphed. They had never liked each other anyway.

With relief, I spotted up ahead the pillar between platforms 9 and 10. Unbeknown to the surrounding muggles, a small new girl with blonde hair down to her waist had just run through the barrier at breakneck speed, lest she lose her nerve. The Ministry's anti-muggle charms must have been very good, I always thought, for the hundreds of people walking past to not see children disappearing into walls every five seconds.

The three of us walked calmly through the solid brick, sighing as, after a long summer away from home, we had returned to this magnificent testament to Hogwarts, her shiny red train.

The Hogwarts Express itself seemed excited at our arrival, and its whistle bellowed whilst it exerted a fresh blast of steam upon seeing us. Picking our way through the younger years and their tearful goodbyes with their parents, we mounted the train.

Peter had already picked out a compartment, one near the middle of the train, and in it sat Remus, Hester and Elena, the latter of which were giggling whilst Remus read and tried not to look uncomfortable. Our entrance was met with immediate silence and a nudge from Elena to Hester as Sirius said hi, which, as is so often the case with girls, was supposed to be subtle but was instead about as imperceptive as a troll in a dollhouse.

Still we pretended not to notice as we sat, grinning across at them. It took me all of two seconds before I could ask.

"So, where's Lily?" I was really trying not to look desperate, but I was unsuccessful. Elena rolled her eyes. _Of course you're looking for Lily, _her expression said.

"Siberia, I imagine," she replied with no hint of humour in her voice, "She has decided to devote her life to a Siberian nunnery." Sirius snorted, and for a moment Elena looked almightily pleased with herself. Sighing, I turned to Hester.

"She's further down the train I think," she explained, "probably having another fight with Snape." _Another _fight. So their ties had grown even weaker over the summer. I bit my lip to stop from smiling, but a small part of me felt slightly bad. of course, he really had been her friend.

Before I could stutter over how that was 'a shame' and 'I hope she's Ok', I was saved by a ginger head and a smooth Irish tenor as the door to the compartment slid open and Rick leant against the doorpost. Emitting a girlish squeal she normally wasn't partial to, Elena sprang from her seat and threw her arms around his neck, planting a peck on his cheek.

"Hey there darlin'," he said in a husky voice, reaching down to take her hand. "Shall we?" he gestured towards his own compartment and Elena shrugged, waved goodbye to us all and followed him out, beaming.

Suddenly aware that she was now the only girl amongst four boys- which would usually not have made a difference had the boys been _talking- _she became suddenly and inexplicably uncomfortable and stood. It took her a few seconds to explain her reasoning for the action.

"I-I'm going to find Lily," she decided mid-sentence, before darting out. The moment she was gone Sirius' head snapped to look at Remus. His eyebrows arched expectantly. Remus did not look up from his book until Sirius coughed loudly. He seemed startled by Sirius' expression.

"Yes?" He asked calmly.

"What were they saying about me?" he insisted, exasperated. For a moment Remus looked thoroughly confused, and I swear Sirius was about to punch him square in the face before he broke into a smile.

"God, you looked proper terrified there for a minute that I hadn't eavesdropped, has anybody ever told you you're a terrible influence?"

"Many times," Sirius said hurriedly, "now tell me, what did she say?" Remus rolled his eyes, disappointed that Sirius wouldn't indulge him.

"She said something about not engaging in a regular fling with one of her merman friends, something about her maybe liking you? I don't quite remember…" but Sirius didn't need to hear any more. Hester maybe liked him. That was more than I got from Lily, who _certainly _disliked me greatly.

He was grinning as the train pulled out of the station with a final, ear splitting bellow and when Hester re-entered with Lily, who smiled cordially but did not seem altogether entirely pleased at having to share the same air as me, he grinned even wider. She smiled back somewhat at his unnerving presentation of teeth and looked suspiciously at Remus, who she had not thought to have been listening.

Nonetheless the journey was pleasant, made even more so by the fuel of enchanted sugar and the presence of a certain red head. She refused all of my advances, of course, all of my lewd innuendos and offerings of certain heart-and-flower-shaped objects, and had no reservations in shouting at me whenever I complimented her, but it was, as always, her blazing fire both dangerous and enticing which made it all the better.

In the meantime we hatched plan upon plan for this year, leaving very little time- as always- for any school work. That was no priority of ours. Hester contributed with her own artistic flair, sitting close to Sirius as the two drew up plans, quite literally, with her remarkable artistic skill. Remus interjected with objections most of the time, but sometimes with infallible school rules and handy ways to bend them ever so slightly to escape expulsion. Lily only sat in disapproving silence, but one could tell from the way a smile played on the corner of her lips, she was enjoying this as much as the rest of us.

Elena returned as outside the sky began to darken and the sun began its dismount. "Better change into your robes," she informed us, "we'll be there soon."

And soon enough Hogwarts was on the horizon.

A sigh ran through the train, it felt, as everyone was awash with the same relief of homecoming. Her lights twinkled in the quickening darkness like winking stars and lit torches, to each of us she greeted us with mouth agape as the doors opened.

"Firs yers this way!" came the familiar welcome from Hagrid, who all the muggle born kids stared at in fascination whilst the first years from wizarding families tried not to look impressed. In the meantime, the rest of the students made their way to the carriages.

After the uneventful previous year at Hogwarts, devoid of Death Eater attacks and the like, some students had returned to Hogwarts. Gabriel Kramer, for example, had returned for his OWLs, and was making eyes at Sophia who, no longer an insecure second year, was frowning at him, unimpressed.

But the crowd was still remarkably deflated.

"People are fleeing," Hester told me as I pointed it out on the carriage. Because of its usual allowance for four, she was perched on Sirius' lap, arms languidly looped around his neck and booted feet on my legs. She didn't seem to note our- my- discomfort. Sirius was grinning. "I saw loads of people on the ferry, the Patels- their son Raj was in Hufflepuff in the year above- they've gone to stay with Indian relatives until this whole…" she trailed off.

"Voldemort." I filled in, adamant that we must continue to say his name. Sirius flinched in minute protest. I ignored him.

"Yeah, after this whole _Voldemort _thing is over."

"If it ever ends," Sirius mumbled. I frowned at him. When _Sirius _said that kind of thing it made our hopes sound even more pathetic, because if anyone was to know whether or not this siege would end, it was Sirius. For a moment looking at him his face was sunken and underfed once more. I blinked away the image.

"There are still a fair few of us," Remus interjected, "and we still have Dumbledore." No more was spoken on the subject, we only talked from then on about the homework we hadn't done over the holidays and the people we had met, and fleetingly Hester mentioned the merman friend she was no longer seeing though we missed his name.

I couldn't keep the smile at bay as we sat finally in the Great Hall, the eight of us, and turned our heads to the Sorting Hat, which sat formidably on its stool and watched as the first years filed in.

Just like last year, the game commenced. Lily and I began to guess houses, and though she was still unaware of her competition this time I was better at it. The flutter of her lips often matched my own assumptions, and time after time we were right- except, admittedly, a near hatstall lasting three and a half minutes which I took for a Hufflepuff but Lily correctly guessed was a Ravenclaw.

Finally, when the only 'Z' was sorted into Slytherin, Dumbledore stood and clapped his hands for attention, which he was immediately and reverently given.

"Students! Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins! Welcome!" There was a short round of applause cut off again by a hush whose origin was unknown but conveniently timed, "I would like to salute our older students, this year has much in store for you now, OWLs some of you, NEWTs others, and another warm welcome to the first years. Whatever it is you have heard about Hogwarts, I would have you know but one thing. Whilst you are here, Hogwarts is to be your home, and I would have you treat it as such. There is a dignity to these walls, a respect, if you please, that you are not to breach."

Many of the first years nodded sombrely in agreement, but among one or two I saw a familiar mischievous glint, the Jameses and Siriuses of their year.

"And now, as many of you have probably noticed, one of our chairs is once again filled by an unfamiliar face! Students, may I introduce you to Professor Wolfe, who will be replacing Professor Ashworth as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year!" We had indeed noticed, however in the hustle and bustle of taking our seats and the sorting we hadn't had time to discuss it.

Professor Wolfe was an Auror. I knew it immediately, I had seen him on one of my holidays with my parents for one thing, but even without this knowledge there was only a small percentage of people in the world who looked quite like he did. He had a shape I could only describe as rectangular, with muscled, brutish shoulders perpendicular to his arms which were stark still on either side of his powerful torso. He didn't have hips, indeed there was no clear place where his stomach ended and his legs began, running straight down on either side until, presumably, they hit the floor somewhere hidden behind the table.

He stood and nodded sternly as Dumbledore introduced him, and his face exposed to the light revealed a myriad of silver etchings streaking jaggedly across his face like comets pulled from orbit by his formidably large nose or his severe eyes. What little hair he had left sprouted from his head in a stubborn thick black, though some places it conceded to age and could no longer grow, it would not grey.

"If anyone looked like a wolf," Remus began, "he does."

_**A/N: I know! I know! Two weeks! Where have you been, Lily? Well, I've been writing a musical and doing all the promo work so I haven't had much time for fanfic, but here we are, slightly longer to make up for my absence. We have a new DADA teacher for you so this should be fun!**_

_**Please review for me! x**_


	70. Duelling Class

The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom was different again as we entered it for our first lesson of the year. It was to be taken with the Ravenclaws, a fact I was at first relieved about before I realised it no longer offered an opportunity to shoot stunning spells in Snivellus' direction.

There were no desks at all this time, the classroom was instead organised with rows of red spellotape stuck to the floor running its length, kind of like in a muggle swimming pool. Professor Wolfe stood in the centre with the few early Ravenclaws surrounding him in a semicircle. The rest of us followed suit, crowding around the professor. Though we greatly outnumbered him, of the two entities in the room (one being our throng and the other being himself), Wolfe was by far the most formidable. None of us had any doubt that if it came to a fight, he would win.

When finally Peter ambled through the door just as lessons were to begin, the doors shut behind us, pulled by some invisible force. Any late comers were clearly not allowed entrance, goodness knows what their punishments would be. With the knowledge of this small but facile injustice we were all immediately alerted to the fact that this professor was certainly not a man to be messed with, and so the room remained hushed until he spoke.

He had- quite as I remembered- a gruff, scottish accented voice. It was the sort of voice which called to mind the image of gravel grating against concrete, or perhaps sandpaper when rubbed against itself.

"Morning, class," he began, as if he were simply stating it was morning rather than hoping we had a good one, "As I'm sure Mr Potter here has already told you, I am an auror."

Accusative eyes fell on me, and whilst it had spread throughout the Great Hall last night that the new professor was an auror, and whilst admittedly I had been the only one with that knowledge, I had only told the people in the immediate vicinity. I was not responsible for the rapid spread of gossip.

"Don't look at him like that, I'm sure he'll do many other things to gain your contempt," Wolfe chided, calling back the attention to himself. Though it had been a thinly veiled insult, I had to momentarily resist a small smile that threatened at the corners of my mouth. "I was going to tell you anyway. The Ministry of Magic have sent me here on account of your duelling."

There was a shared moment of sidelong glances, a consensus of confusion. Duelling? We didn't duel. Certainly not in lessons, and out of lessons the hexing had a tendency of being rather one-sided.

Tentatively, Remus raised a hand.

"But Sir," he began, not really waiting for permission to speak. "We don't do any duelling."

"Precisely, Mr Lupin!" Wolfe's knowledge of all of our names had become unnerving, but we had to remind ourselves that he was from the Ministry. This was, perhaps, our only justification for anything out of the ordinary that Wolfe did. He was from the Ministry. Strange things happened in the Ministry.

"The Ministry is worried that should any of you ever find yourselves in a position where you must duel, you will be completely unprepared. It is in times like this that magical education becomes about more than learning about Devil's Snare's preferred conditions. Now it's about actual defence."

There was a sombre agreement in the class, nodding. We couldn't even escape that morbid truth in Hogwarts anymore. The truth that there _was _a Dark Lord and he _was _out to get us all and, eventually, it would come to battle.

And battle we did.

"So," Wolfe continued, drawing our attention sharply back to himself, "Defence Against the Dark Arts this year will henceforth be known as Duelling class, and I want all of you to pair up with someone of the opposite house. Whichever house wins most duels each lesson will be awarded twenty points, just for a little encouragement."

I paired up with Sasha Charles, who smiled at me brightly as we stood facing each other in one of the rows. Ravenclaws faced the door, Gryffindors faced the wall so across the rows there were two straight lines of red and blue. Bags were shoved hastily to the back of the classroom, and we were warned not to bring them again. Any notes we wanted to make were to be made in our own time so we didn't waste our professor's.

"Now," he began, "What is the most first spell you should attempt in a duel?"

Several hands shot up, and answers varied from stunning spells to comical hexes. At each Wolfe shook his head, looking increasingly hopeless. Finally, reluctant to be the one to get it right _again _as had become expected of him_, _Remus raised his hand.

"Ah, Mr Lupin, save us all please from these imbeciles," again everyone who had just been insulted struggled to keep from smiling. There was something oddly endearing about this brusque scottish auror.

"A disarming charm, Sir," he answered, and Wolfe clapped his hands.

"Exactly! A disarming charm! For all of you who aren't Mr Lupin and who couldn't answer my question I would like three paragraphs on the _Expelliarmus _charm for tomorrow please," nobody dared groan.

We stood for a moment expectantly, awaiting instruction.

"Well?" Wolfe asked after a moment, "what are you waiting for? Disarm you opponent!" And as quickly as he had said it my wand was out of my hand and in Sasha's, who was smiling smugly. I was tempted to use my little wandless skill to summon it back but that would lead to questions like 'why do you know how to do wandless magic?'

When everybody had completed the spell with ease- it was elementary magic- Wolfe taught us all another easy spell, a protection charm.

"Why are we doing thees?" Hissed Belle to Sasha, "Eet ees seemple magique, we learnt eet first year at Beauxbatons." After an entire summer in France, Belle had fallen back into a heavy French accent, and had only begun to shake it off, much to the amusement of the rest of the fourth year.

"Because, Miss Delafeu," Wolfe replied from across the room in a booming voice, "The simple spells are the most important." As we all turned to listen to the professor he lowered his voice.

"I've seen a lot in my time," Wolfe confessed, "a lot of wizards beaten in a lot of duels. Good wizards too, some of the best I've ever known just gone, _poof,_" he illustrated their disappearance with a wave of his hand. "Using some of the most complicated magic, most of 'em, but if at the _very beginning _of their duel they had disarmed their opponents, maybe they'd have been standing here now, rather than me."

Belle nodded apologetically as Wolfe cocked a dissenting eyebrow at her.

"I'll be expecting an extra two paragraphs from you, Miss Delafeu," then he turned back to the class who were listening, enrapt. They wanted to hear more of his stories, stories he didn't want to tell. "Go on then all of you!" he barked, "Duel!"

This time I cast a quick protection charm before Sasha could expel my wand from my hand, which she attempted to do before Wolfe had even finished.

"_Confundo!_" I shot back. The spell careened towards her as she ducked, whistling over her right shoulder and smashing into the wall behind her, fizzling out.

"_Rictumsempra!_" it hit me on my right thigh, and immediately I felt a tickling sensation run all around my body, making me squirm and- most embarrassingly- squeal with laughter. Evoking more laughter from my peers, who had turned to find the girlish laugh's source.

"_F-Fini-Finit-FINITE!_" I choked, sighing as all at once the tickling stopped. Sasha winked at me as I turned to face her again.

As she did so, something in me clicked, a need to win over my ingrained societal chivalry. Maybe I wouldn't hit a girl, but I would stun her.

"_Stupefy!_" Sasha had little time to recover before a stream of scarlet hit her square in the chest, and she fell backwards, landing on the floor in a heap. Though perhaps morally questionable, this was not against the rules.

There were very few rules. One won the duel if a) their opponent stepped out of the designated duelling zone, b) if an opponent conceded by sending up red sparks or c) if their opponent was incapacitated. And no dark magic.

Sasha, in a pile on the floor, was simply incapacitated. But whilst she was already stirring, I was receiving quite the collection of dirty looks. Sighing I ran to her and shook her gently. Her eyelids fluttered open and she gave me a curious look, as if she half recognised me but she couldn't be entirely sure. Then she frowned and sat up.

"I'm pretty sure that's cheating," she harrumphed. From this proximity she smelt faintly of strepsils.

"Not cheating, Miss Charles, though perhaps a little unprecedented for a first duel." Wolfe's timing seemed uncanny as suddenly he was looming over us, kissing his teeth as if to decide what to do with me.

"Well, I suppose that is a win for you, Potter," he shrugged. "Better luck next time, Miss Charles. And to the rest of you lolligaggers who spent their time watching this exchange to see whether or not I would reprimand Mr Potter," Wolfe continued, raising his voice and turning to cock an eyebrow at half of the class. The other half now turned to listen again, "I will count all of your duels as ties."

His eyes flew up as he counted up the points in his head.

"That makes it a win for the Ravenclaws this week, despite Mr Potter's best efforts," the class chuckled, even Sasha, "twenty points to Ravenclaw then. Class dismissed."

"Whatever," Sasha shrugged, extending her hand, "A pleasure to fight you, James." I took it.

"A pleasure to beat you, Sash," I grinned before she bounced off to link arms with Phoebe, driving her way through the crowd of students towards lunch, taking the smell of strepsils with her.

As we exited the classroom I cast a glance back at our professor, who was pacing up and down one of the furthest rows, smiling faintly to himself. And though after our fist lesson we already had homework and he seemed to have insulted me twice already, I couldn't help but smiling too.

"I like him," I told Sirius.

"Me too," he replied.

_**A/N: I'm really feeling this DADA teacher, I sort of love him. I think it's time for another teacher who actually teaches, though if we see that he bears some similarities to Mad Eye then I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself. **_

_**Please review x**_


	71. A Compendium of Drabbles

_**A/N: I should explain. The two month hiatus (or however long it was) was because my REAL book is being prepared to be sent to a REAL agent, and I had to devote all my writing time to it, and then I had GCSEs to think about. But now, when I turned back to FanFic, I realised that this story is starting to feel like a chore, and I simply don't have the time to keep it up at the rate I have been. In short: I want it done.**_

_**But I'm not giving up. I have so many sub-plots, so many strings left untied, so many scenes in my head that I want on paper because I don't want to give up on you: the valiant readers who have struggled through seventy odd chapters with me.**_

_**So instead, I take a different approach. I will finish this, but in drabbles- short scenes with little descriptions before to catch you all up. I'm sorry to those of you who were enjoying it this far, but I think we were all getting a bit tired. **_

_**And so the show goes on…**_

_Later on in the fourth year, after several attempts at asking Hester out, Sirius decides it is time for the Grand Gesture. James watches from beneath the cloak. The aim is that if Sirius is veering seriously off topic, James signals to him._

Hester entered tentatively. We had left her a note to meet Sirius in the Shrieking Shack during the next trip to Hogsmeade, and Elena said she'd gotten it. We knew it would be a risk, bringing her here, but it was unlikely that she would make any connections with the place and Hogwarts, let alone Remus.

We had only made minor adjustments, summer had taken care of most of the decoration. Soft light was filtered by the dust on the windows so it drifted lazily into the room, brushing against the floor with its warm glow and elongating shadows. The thick dust layer had been thinned to almost-unnoticeable, though a little was needed to mask the scratches left by Remus. Here and there we had placed sprigs of flowers, to mask the musty smell and for general decoration, but beyond that the biggest change was really to Sirius himself.

He wasn't the same suave, cavalier boy who had asked Hester out in jest so many times over the last few months. Today, for some inexplicable reason, he was wearing a crisp shirt- his only shirt- buttoned up almost to the top, tucked into his least-baggy pair of black trousers. In an effort to look smart he had even laced up his combat boots to the top rather than folding them down at the ankle as he usually did. He had even tried to deal with his hair, running wet fingers through it, pushing it out of his face. Even now, though, a few stubborn hairs were curling back around his cheeks.

"Hester," he breathed as he noticed her, relieved she had braved it. Hester looked unsettled as she stepped into the shack, worried that at any moment something might jump out at her. She seemed even more perturbed, though, when she saw Sirius, looking neater than any of us had ever seen him.

But I noticed things about Hester too. She was wearing a dress- though she rarely did- a light fabric cleverly constructed to compliment her curves. She was wearing more make up too, thin flicks of eyeliner framed thick, long lashes and her lips were slightly rouged. She was also nervous.

"What's going on, Siri?" she asked. The question was clearly mean to be playful, but between the awkward teenagers it seemed suddenly very serious. As if suddenly he wasn't quite sure himself, Sirius inhaled and then paused. He waited for a long moment, and then exhaled.

Silence hung in the air, heavy and uneasy. Finally, as if a thought had struck him, Sirius pulled out his wand.

"Do you remember what I got you for your birthday?" he asked, suddenly. Hester frowned, but nodded.

"Uh… yeah, those roses, the silver ones." Sirius nodded.

"Yeah, that's right," he said, humphing at the memory, "Well, um," with his wand he drew a line in the air, and where it went a stem followed, until finally it blossomed into a full, red rose. I stuck a hand out of the cloak, with a thumb pointed up. Smiling, Sirius handed it to her.

"What's this?" Hester asked as she buried her nose in the petals. "I mean, thanks."

"Hester," Sirius said, calling back her attention, "There's something I have to tell you." Still sniffing the flower, Hester's eyes darted up to Sirius' face, realising he was being serious, for probably the first time she had ever witnessed. She nodded, and Sirius took a step closer. There was a small gap between them now, close enough for Sirius to take her hand.

"Hester, I know we're mates now, and you are one of my best friends, seriously," Hester nodded, but still she didn't say anything. Her eyes were urging him to go on. "But… oh god," Sirius pushed his free hand through his hair and clutched the back of his neck, trying to find the words. "I don't know how to explain it, it's like you're there, even when you're not, like I know what you'd be saying, what you'd be thinking, it's like I'm hearing your voice in my head as well as mine. D'you know what I mean?" Hester paused, then shook her head.

"I can't explain what you've done to me," Sirius moaned, "it… it's like the roses. Last year, when I gave you the silver ones, that's what I _thought _I should give you. But now I get it, you know? The beauty of the red rose, it's what I _feel._" Suddenly Sirius laughed, a loud, barking laugh. "Merlin I sound so stupid, don't I? Talking about my feelings."

"No," Hester said, "you don't sound stupid." Sirius breathed, gazing at her, gathering his thoughts.

"I guess you have to sound foolish when you're in love," he said lightly, "otherwise there wouldn't be a saying." Hester's breath caught, but still she waited for him to finish.

"This is what I'm trying to say, Hester," he said finally, "is that you're an amazing artist, and a witty person, and god you're sexy," Hester blushed, "and ever since I have met you I have been falling, headfirst, for you."

Silence, a celestial hush.

"Sirius," Hester began but he hushed her with a finger on her lips, a finger which moved slowly to her cheek, and then to grip her neck. Slowly, giving her time to object, Sirius stooped over so his lips hovered above hers. He stayed there, searching her eyes for objection. When he found none he allowed his eyes to close.

"I love you," he said, and closed the gap between their lips, kissing her. It took a while for her to mumble into his lips that she loved him too.

_**A/N: Yes, awkward, I know, but tell me you've been in this situation and it **_**wasn't **_**awkward. **_

_A few nights later, Remus is off being a werewolf and Peter is still in the Room of Requirement, practicing the final stages of becoming an animagus. James and Sirius are lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling Remus bewitched with lots of little lights to look like stars, seeing how long it would take for the school to break the charm so he could work out how to bewitch it for the map. _

"Man," Sirius breathed, staring up at the manufactured constellations of Remus' night. Whilst we were both well aware that we were inside, lying on the floor in our dorm, there was an odd half of our brains which irrationally insisted that we were actually outside looking up at the sky. The prickling of carpet on our skin was the grass and its inhabitants, the sound of muffled portraits still awake was the cry of a distant animal.

"It's something," I agreed, smiling faintly. Sirius had been happier than I had ever seen him these past few days with Hester by his side. The two had taken to each other so easily. What had once been flirty and mildly uncomfortable was now conspiratorial and intimate. Hester would yawn mid-conversation and lay her head on his lap and Sirius wouldn't even react past placing a soft hand on her head and stroking her bewitched cherry-red hair until her eyelids fluttered closed.

"I feel like I could write poetry," Sirius sighed, "about the stars, about Hester…" I smiled over at him, turning to make out his faint outline by the synthetic starlight.

"You've got it bad, haven't you?" I asked. I already knew he did. Sirius' Hester was like my Lily. I wondered if, if he looked in the mirror of Erised, he'd see anything at all. Sirius' head rolled over, and though I couldn't see his eyes I could imagine them being alight with contentedness.

"I don't know what's gotten into me," he confessed, "it's like I'm calm all the time now. All that noise of my family and my past and my scars, its all quiet when she's around."

"Yeah," I said, though I couldn't really understand. Lily was part of my noise, the loudest part that raged through my head at night and kept me up for hours with the volume of her smile. "I wish I could be so lucky."

"Lily's in love with you," Sirius said lightly. "She's just the only person who doesn't realise it." He hadn't said it for my benefit. He wasn't even looking at me any more, he had turned his attention back to the ceiling. Smiling at his words, I turned mine back too.

_Fifth year. Snape has just called Lily a mudblood and Lily has come back into the common room crying. She and James are on speaking terms, but she can only just about tolerate him. _

Remus and I sat on the floor by the window of the common room, pouring over our potions essays for Professor Slughorn. He had adopted Lily and Remus into his Slug Club, and Remus was trying his very best to get out of it whilst not abandoning Lily to the ostentation.

In the corner of the room, Josephine was painting. Today, she had been commissioned by a descendent of his to paint some famous knight of the round table, and a large canvas was set up in the middle of the room on an easel that nearly reached the ceiling. By her side lay her faithful dog, Ziggy, whose head lolled lazily to one side and the smell of oil paints wafted slowly over.

The painting was making quite a racket. The knight must have been quite a hassle in life, because in his immortalisation he was incredibly vocal. At this very moment he was shouting at Josephine that his shoulders 'simply weren't broad enough to display his physical power'. She was rolling her eyes with an old miniature portrait in her hand, the actual source of the racket. His shoulders were exactly right.

Just as the sounds of the knight's protestations of Josephine painting his eyes 'ochre' instead of 'olive' were carrying over to us on the other side of the room, the door to the common room burst open and Lily stormed through, red hair flailing behind her, trying to keep up. At her heels were a flurry of girls who had evidently just witnessed whatever incident had led to her current state of fury and disarray.

It was only as she approached that I noticed she was crying. I flew immediately to my feet.

"Evans!" I called instinctively, not even thinking of how that might annoy her. She turned her head and glared at me, eyes red and puffy, fat tears hanging from the tip of her nose. "Lily, what's wrong?" She paused, as if maybe she might tell me, then shook her head and stormed back to the dorm. The other girls tried to follow her but Hester held them back.

"She needs her space," she explained, and after protesting and giving their condolences the other girls eventually dispersed until only Hester and Elena were left.

"What happened?" I asked, apprehension growing in the pit of my stomach.

"Snape," Hester spat angrily. The apprehension twisted into a knot, and suddenly I felt my hands ball up into fists at my sides and my teeth clench. That was the general effect Snape had one people.

"I'm sorry, but if you're trying to maintain a relationship with a girl you love, I just wouldn't start calling her obscenities in the middle of the Great Hall. Am I wrong?" Elena asked sarcastically. Hester nodded.

"What did he call her?" I asked through gritted teeth. I already knew, and my hand was already itching to get my wand to hex the little sod into oblivion. Hester and Elena looked uncomfortable for a moment, wondering who should say it. Eventually, Hester leant in and whispered in my ear.

"Mudblood."

She had barely uttered the word and I had already turned on my heel and made straight for the door of the common room, heading towards where I knew Snape would be gloating with his friends.

He wasn't gloating when I entered the Great Hall, at least that was something. Instead, he sat apart from the rest of his little gang of Slytherins looking positively miserable. For a moment, I almost felt sad for the greasy haired, gangly boy with the sorrowful expression, but then I remembered Lily's tears and the anger was restored. Suddenly it was my rage driving my feet forward, grabbing Snape by the scruff of his neck and dragging him out of the Great Hall.

I made sure to get us positively lost before I began to speak, and Snape, in a state of self pitying woe, wasn't talking either, so he just allowed his despondent body to be dragged to some obscure corridor on the sixth floor before I slammed him into a wall.

"What. The. Hell." I began, trying to keep my voice even. "I don't _get _you, Snivellus. You love little miss Evans, but you make every effort to fight with her-"

"I don't love her-"

"Don't bloody lie to me!" I yelled, pulling him towards me by the shoulders of his cloak and slamming him into the wall. His head was thrown to the side and he gained himself a graze on his right cheek.

"We had a rule! An unspoken pact! That _neither _of us break her heart! Do you _want _her broken?" I asked. Snivellus shook his head, mumbling dejectedly. "DON'T JUST MUMBLE! DO YOU _WANT _HER BROKEN?"

"No!" Snape choked. Great, now he was crying too.

I spent a long moment with my hands gripping his shoulders, so close to his neck, so tempted to close my hands around it and throttle him. How dare he try and break her? How dare anybody hurt her? He didn't deserve to have had her in the first place, and I was going to make bloody sure he could never have her again.

"Well it's too late now. She's not yours any more. From now on, you lay a finger on her, and I swear I'll kill you. Understand?" Snape nodded his head violently, wanting out of my grip. I kept hold of him for a few seconds longer, then relaxed. Snape sighed.

Then I tightened it again and slammed him into the wall again so he hit his head, letting him go so he could slide down to the floor, semi-conscious and woeful.

_The summer of after fifth year and yet again Sirius shows up at James' house, except this time he's never leaving. James, Sirius and Peter perfected their animagi at the end of the year. _

The scratching was loud, rapid and desperate. It rattled through the little French cottage we were staying in, rattled right through my rib cage. I felt that same sort of falling sensation that shakes one out of sleep, and quickly shuffled, barefoot on the cold stone floor, to the door.

When I opened a dark shape collapsed in front of me. I yelped as I felt sticky fur brush against my ankle, falling to my knees to inspect. As I did so, the animal stopped whimpering, and the fur by my foot receded as the shape grew slightly.

"Padfoot?" I asked, bewildered. Sirius groaned. "Padfoot!" I exclaimed again, finding his arms and hoisting them into the crooks of my elbows, pulling him inside and closing the door. "_Lumos,_" I said hastily, simple wandless magic. I wasn't worried about the trace, there were two wizards in this house allowed to magic, and, should it still be noted, there were _two _that could not.

Light sprang into the room to reveal Sirius on the floor, eyes half-open, clothes in tatters. The stickiness on his fur had been blood, and it stained his greying t-shirt as I watched it seeping from several wounds on his chest. He was moaning faintly, and the blood on his face was diluted with brine.

"Mum! Dad!" I called desperately. I wasn't sure what to do, where to start. Remus usually dealt with Sirius' injuries, Remus was the one with stores of dittany and a wealth of spells he could use in these situations.

It took a few calls before my parents were out of bed and hurrying to my aid, perturbed by the desperation in my hoarse voice. Their shock was doubled at the sight of Sirius, their second son, in a bloodied heap on the floor of what we had originally thought to be a peaceful cottage. I had, of course, told Sirius exactly where we were going to be this summer in case this happened, I just hoped it never would.

My mother was crouching by my side almost immediately, shouting to my father to grab her a whole array of unctions and salves and potions I had read about briefly in school but was aware were very difficult to make, used only on wounds made by dark magic. Together, we ripped off the remains of his shirt and trousers, inspecting all of his wounds.

Alongside old scars were fresh cuts, jagged and cruel, done in the spur of the moment. Where the flesh separated the skin was discoloured, a black which indicated that these gashes were the product of dark magic as my mother had predicted.

Some time in the night as my mother and I gritted our teeth and worked on his cuts, Sirius blacked out.

He woke up two days later, dressed in some of my clothes, fresh bandages wrapped around his chest and thighs. I was by his bedside and, most importantly, so was Hester. The first thing he asked for when he woke up was water, and after we had tipped a cup up against his lips and he had gulped a fair amount down, he began to tell us what happened.

It appeared that Sirius' active friendship with a blood traitor such as me had become quite an issue for his family. When Sirius refused to terminate our friendship or comply with any of their supremacist plans, he placed the final straw upon the camel's back that was his father's patience.

He had not escaped. He had been thrown out, blown off the family tree. Not quite knowing what he was doing or where he was going he had morphed into a dog and legged it, injuries and all, to Knockturn alley. It was here he had paid somebody to take him, using side-along apparition, to the cottage door, where he had once again turned to his stronger dog figure to sustain him for however long it would take for us to answer.

It was at this point that Sirius lifted the duvet to properly survey his injuries.

"Mum and I worked on you for a few hours," I told him, "they won't scar." Sirius met my eyes sadly.

"Yes, they will." I knew he was right.

We sat together for a while, talking in hushed voices about what had happened in the Prophet during his days out cold, then Sirius announced he was tired and Hester nodded, stroking his cheek tenderly. He reached out towards her and she came and sat down lightly beside him on the bed, allowing him to pull her down so she snuggled into his chest. I watched for a moment as he kissed the top of her head, burying his nose in her hair and closing his eyes, taking a moment. Then, Sirius began to cry, sobbing into Hester. He reminded me of the second year who didn't believe in love, crying inconsolably. Hester held him as he did so, shushing him, cooing him. I left the two alone. Sirius needed Hester now, he didn't like crying in front of me.

_**A/N: Thanks for reading, more will be up soon. Do review x**_


	72. A Compendium Of Drabbles II

_The beginning of sixth year. James, Remus, Sirius and Peter have gotten off the carriages and are walking through the doors of the Great Hall. _

Being back in Hogwarts was like breathing again. Like the rest of the world, no matter how long we had been in it, was unfamiliar and frightening, like this was our sole sanctuary. Torches sprung to life as we approached, the castle was as happy to see us as we were to be in it.

Standing by the doors of the Great Hall and waiting for the frightened first years to come in from the boats stood Professor McGonagall, erect and formidable, looking pleased as she ushered everybody in.

"Good evening, Professor," I said with a wide smile. Whilst I was perhaps the miscreant she had seen most often in her entire Hogwarts career, Minerva McGonagall was still one of my favourite teachers and secretly I think she always liked me for my constant victories as Gryffindor's Quidditch captain.

"Oh, look!" said Professor McGonagall, her face alight with borderline-sarcastic glee, "if it isn't our school's favourite marauders!" We grinned as we passed her, making our way to the Gryffindor table.

"Marauders," Sirius said, turning the word over on his tongue, "I like that."

_Sixth year. The Duelling club started by Wolfe before he left is still going strong, and all of its members are future members of the order. Sirius has been living with James and returning to his for all of the holidays, enjoying the experiences of holidays with families who actually care for him. Lily and James are civil, friends almost._

It was during duelling club that Remus ran to us, ecstatic.

"I figured it out!" he exclaimed. "I know how to bewitch the castle!" He didn't expand, he knew we didn't want to hear about the complex logistics of the spells on the castle or their histories and the odd loopholes we found. We wanted a map, and a map we now had.

_James is in the Duelling club that he and the others practically run. Today, they are focusing on stunning their opponent. _

"Nice, Alice," I noted as I saw Frank thrown across the room and onto a mat, receiving the unfortunate brunt of her impressive attack. The small, pixie like girl flashed me a gleaming smile before skipping over to help Frank up. He smiled sheepishly as he accepted her hand and remarked at her skill. I chuckled, wondering if Alice had any idea how completely in love with her he had fallen.

"_Stupefy! _Sorry!" I heard from the other side of the classroom. There was only one person I knew who apologised for every good spell. I spun to see Lily Evans with her hands over her mouth as Remus, her duelling partner, tried to pick himself up off the floor, having been thrown so far back he had missed the crash mat entirely.

"I'm quite alright," Remus assured her as he stood. "Or at least I will be after a quick visit to Madam Pomfrey," his voice cracked as he began to limp hurriedly to the infirmary, trying helplessly to silence Lily's cries.

"He'll be fine, Evans," I assured her as I strode to her side.

"I should have picked you as a partner," she snapped.

"Funny," I replied, "well I'm free now? You wanna have a go?" I always knew how to make her smile. As she raised her wand she was positively grinning. "Wait, one sec!" I called as she began to take a few paces back, preparing herself. "_Engorgio._"

The crash mat behind me doubled in length. Bracing myself, I nodded.

The spell slammed into me like a bus, sending me up off my feet and flying onto the mat, which I certainly would have missed without having made it larger first. As I landed I felt the wind knocked out of me and something crunched in the way that bones do when they aren't breaking, they're just reminding you that _that was incredibly stupid._

I began struggling to get up and found myself quite unable to do so, floundering in the folds of the blue plastic and aching. Finally dragging my dignity behind me with a worn rope tied around its pathetic little neck, I took to trying to crawl out and flopped uselessly onto the floor.

Realising my distress, Lily ran to my aid, giving me a hand up which I took reluctantly, astonished by her strength.

"You alright, Potter?" she asked. I could practically hear the smirk in her voice. I nodded, staring at my feet and messing up my hair a little.

"Uh, yeah, I'm..." shoving my hands in my pockets I looked up at her.

I'm not sure what it was that happened when our eyes met. It was like our bodies knew something that we didn't, had been made aware of our destinies before we were. Completely involuntarily, our minds would wipe blank and we would not only forget what we wanted to say, but that we were saying anything at all.

It took me a long time to pull my gaze away from her brilliantly green eyes.

"I'm fine," I muttered to the space between her eyebrows.

"Oh, good, because I would have hated to think that the ever-masculine James Potter was beaten by, y'know, _a girl,_" I chuckled at whatever it was she said, focusing on her lips, wondering what they would feel like on my own. I wondered if kissing Lily would feel just like kissing anyone else, just the physical sensation. I knew for certain that wouldn't be the case or really hoped not. I couldn't decide which.

"I think you'll find being beaten by a girl looks good on me," I said with a smile, tired of playing the satire, "accentuates my sensitive side."

"James Potter, you don't have a sensitive bone in your body."

"Not bones, no," I agreed, meeting her eyes again, "the heart that loves you, that's a muscle." Then I left her, stuttering and speechless, wand slightly raised but not sure how to shout at me. I noted that that had been the first time I had told her I loved her. I wondered if she'd believed me.

No matter, eventually she would.

_The night of a full moon, and the gang are out in the Forbidden Forest, galavanting with their werewolf friend. _

It was an odd communication, the way we spoke when we were animals. It was sort of a compilation of grunts and yips and another sort of instinct which was difficult to identify which added up to the simplest form of conversation. There wasn't really sarcasm but if you cocked your head just right it conveyed the slightest sense of irony. Too far, though, and you risked looking confused.

It may sound complicated but it came to us swiftly and easily, and soon we were filled with a primal rush of unadulterated enjoyment as we threw our furred bodies through the Forbidden Forest. Running as we did, free and happy and together, it was the second most alive I had ever felt.

The first was kissing Lily.

But we were stupid. There was something about the darkness which had made it easier to pretend that we were alone in the world. I'm not sure what sense of entitlement had led us to believe that for this one night a month the Forest was ours, but it was our irresponsibility that lead to the very near death of several first years.

We had been play-fighting, as we often did. Peter would weave his way between our feet as Sirius, Remus and I took it in turns to wrestle, all in good humour. Remus and Sirius were mid tussle- Remus holding Sirius by the scruff playfully, when we felt it.

The animal instinct is quite impossible to explain if you've never experienced it before, but suddenly we were all aware of the approaching proximity of many different beings, each big enough to be a threat.

Or, in the case of the werewolf among us, a meal.

Remus dropped Sirius as his head snapped up to sniff the air and suddenly he wasn't listening to us thump our tails or shake our antlers vigorously or any of our other attempts to draw back the attention of _Remus _and not the wolf. And then he howled, and we knew we were in for trouble.

A little distance away my human ears understood voices.

"Uh, Jack, there aren't _werewolves _in the Forbidden Forest, are there?" asked a trembling voice. Oh god, I thought, _kids. _

A chill ran through my spine. What the hell were Hogwarts students doing out of bed and in the Forbidden Forest of all places? Surely Hagrid knew better than hold detention out here on a full moon? Of course he did, it must have been a dare or a joke or something. Heck, I would have done it had I not known.

In answer to the boy's question, Remus howled again. Not the tortured howl mistaken for whatever haunted the Shrieking Shack, it sounded like a battle cry, like the beginning of a hunt.

"Yeah, Toby, I think there just might be," the terrified reply preceded a sudden cacophony of snapping twigs and rustling leaves and panting as the boys began to run and Remus began to chase them. Sirius and I shared what to us looked like alarm but what to an outsider would barely identifiable as eye contact.

And then we were chasing him.

It was difficult, Remus' legs were longer than ours and he loped easily towards the source of the scuffling. Sirius' dog body was bigger and more cumbersome, he found it more difficult to swerve between the trees, and often my antlers got in the way.

We were reaching them all too soon, we had been running half a minute and I could already spot green and silver Slytherin scarves to protect against the unpleasant nightly chill. Remus was gaining on them and we were losing him. I felt panic begin to build up like lactic acid in my very bones. _No! _My mind was screaming, _Remus, stop! _

Because I knew that should anything happen to these kids, it wouldn't only ruin Remus, ensure him a spot in Azkaban or isolation and deny him any education or any chance at any sort of life, it would break him. I had seen what the near miss with Snivellus had done to him, and that was _Snape. _How would he ever recover from this?

And then, one of the kids tripped. I took him to be Toby.

"_Toby!_" One of the boys, Jack, hissed. But Toby couldn't stand, he only floundered on the floor, trying to drag himself far enough away so that maybe the fast-approaching werewolf wouldn't be able to catch him, but Remus was almost upon him and I could see his jaw opening in preparation.

Suddenly, with a monumental effort, Sirius threw himself into the air, his strong dog haunches sending him flying right up to Remus, knocking him to the side. Sirius was always the best at fighting, had been doing it all his life.

I turned my attention to the Slytherins. There were four in total, boys, and they couldn't have been older than twelve years old. They had to leave, but they weren't running. They were all standing, transfixed, watching the werewolf fighting a giant black dog. I tried to say something, but it came out as me rearing up and stamping my hooves, which did little to warn them of the danger. A stag was not going to help them.

Hurriedly, I ducked into a bush and changed back. By whatever stroke of luck whoever had invented the possibility of becoming an animagus was also considerate enough to allow us too keep our clothes and any belongings we had on our person. Human again, I stood to find Remus and Sirius several feet away from the boys, savagely ripping at each other.

"Are you mental?" I hissed at them, storming from the bushes. They jumped collectively, each gripping on to each other's sleeve. When they saw who it was- or rather, that at least it was a _who _and not a _what_- they let them go again, rather embarrassedly. "What the hell are you doing in the forbidden forest on a full moon?"

"I-is that a werewolf?" Toby stammered.

"Yes it's a werewolf, they're fairly common in the forest," I lied, "Now get out of here before it kills you." Three of the boys seemed rather relieved to go, but the leader of the foursome, Jack, stared back at me defiantly.

"How come it won't hurt you?" he asked.

"Because I know how to do more than levitation spells," I replied, tersely. Then, feeling in my pockets, I pulled out all the sprigs I had of a foul-smelling herb and handed them to the boys, who held them at arms length. Behind me, I could hear Sirius yelp. He was tiring.

"What are these?" Toby asked, inspecting them.

"Wolfsbane," I answered, trying to shoo them away so I could rescue Sirius.

"How do we use it?" Jack asked.

"It'll keep him away, alright? Now go. And if you dare think of turning me in to Dumbledore then I will make bloody sure he knows that you four were out in the Forbidden Forest at night. Understood?" Relief crossed the faces of the others as Jack nodded and they realised they could leave. It didn't take them long to take to their feet, running back to the castle as fast as their little legs could carry them.

The moment they were gone, I returned to Remus and Sirius to subdue the beast.

_A few hours later, after sunrise. _

Remus and Sirius sat on the bathroom floor, stripped down to their underwear, and taking it in turns to dab dittany on the harder to reach areas that they had clawed at last night. Peter was perched on the sink, handing them wet cloths when they needed it, and I sat on the toilet with the lid closed, watching them a little sadly.

There was something about the way they were tending to each other's wounds, a certain professionalism, as if they were so accustomed to dressing and hiding wounds that it was second nature.

Remus winced as he began to work on a particularly nasty gash on Sirius' left shoulder.

"Merlin" he said quietly, "did I do that?"

"Not you," Sirius assured him, "the wolf."

We had taken to calling Remus' wolf self 'the wolf', but it seemed to be harder for Remus to make the division between wolf and man than it had been for the rest of us.

"And I, it, would have gotten those kids?" he asked hesitantly, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"It's fine, they were only Slytherins," Sirius joked, but Remus didn't laugh, so I quickly stifled my own chuckle.

"It's alright, Moony, everything worked just like we planned if something went wrong. They all had wolfsbane when they left, you wouldn't have been able to hurt them." I assured him. But Remus' eyes were shimmering and I knew he was trying very hard not to turn the internal claws on himself again.

"It was a bad idea," he choked, and we all pretended not to notice the thickness in his voice.

"No it wasn't Moony," Sirius replied in a sympathetic voice, "you haven't had a new scar in weeks!"

"Better I hurt myself than somebody else..." This time Sirius didn't make a joke about them only being Slytherins, he only started working diligently on a scratch on his back.

"Better nobody gets hurt," I said decisively, "We'll be more careful next time," and whilst Remus tried to protest that there could be a next time I would not hear it, because I would not see him hurt again and know there was something I could do to stop it.

_James contemplates general life when he spots Lily sitting outside the castle alone, trying to read her book but distracted by somebody she used to know._

Sometimes I was jealous of Sirius. Not because of his family or anything, and certainly not because of his looks, but when I saw him with Hester I felt something in me twang like the string on an old banjo and I felt the same sort of longing I had become accustomed to since I had met Lily Evans in my first year.

It was just the way he loved her, it was so free of scorn and hexing. I remembered fondly how I had helped him set up pumpkin speakers all around the grounds outside the castle, and how he had led her slowly out onto the grass and danced with her to _Unchained Melody. _I remembered how she had giggled and shrieked as he spun her and laughed into his lips as he pulled her back in for a kiss.

I was jealous of how, even when he wasn't with her, he could miss her. I was jealous about how he could talk about the two of them as if they were one entity. I was jealous of how he could smile across rooms at her and hold her hand and know intimate details about her without being mocked for being smitten.

I was pondering my envy when I came upon the exact object of my unhappiness. She sat on one of the walls that ran around the castle grounds, ankles crossed, a paperback on her lap. The summer sunlight fell softly on her face, and the flyaway red hairs formed a sun-soaked amber halo around her head.

Beside her lay her cloak and tie and she had rolled up her sleeves in the heat, leaving most of her buttons undone so that her Beatles t-shirt was visible underneath. Really, we had been too young to fully experience Beatle-mania, but our generation leached the final dregs of that pop culture icon from the previous decade and spoke fondly of it as if it had been our own.

Or at least, those among us with _tainted blood _did.

Her brow creased in the gorgeous way it did when she was slightly annoyed, drawing her eyebrows endearingly together and somehow drawing out an involuntary pout. My eyes skirted around, searching for the source of her dissatisfaction as it evidently wasn't me, I hadn't made myself known to her.

They weren't hard to locate, I heard them before I even saw them. A group of Slytherins, Snivellus at their centre and, to my surprise and slight disgust, Layla, sitting languidly in his lap, arms slung around his neck. She was giggling at something he said and placing light kisses on his pasty cheeks and running fingers through his greasy hair, for a moment, I thought I might throw up. Lily seemed to be sharing my distaste.

Thinking that perhaps a common enemy might be just what I needed, I sauntered over to her, hoisting myself up onto the wall and beaming as she looked up at me.

"Hey, Evans," I greeted her. The nickname had lost its ability to infuriate her during perhaps our fifth year, so now she only smiled back.

"Potter,"

"Watcha readin'?" I asked, placatingly. If I'm honest, I didn't even really have anything to say, I just wanted to talk to her. In answer, she held up the book. It was one of those mass produced scifi paperbacks with a war torn cover. I frowned at her.

"I like fantasy," she admitted sheepishly.

"Nerd."

"Git."

We frowned at each other for half a second before Lily cracked a smile and suddenly I was smiling too. I noticed then how satisfying it was to watch her lips when they smiled, the way they curved upwards, slightly glossed, revealing rows of perfect teeth. And suddenly, I was overcome by an urge to kiss them so strong it sent my heart pounding.

I wrenched my eyes from her lips to meet Lily's eyes, which seemed confused, but not by something I'd done. Instead, she seemed to be fighting some internal battle, and for a moment I thought I caught her staring at _my _lips.

"Lily?" I asked tentatively, drawing her gaze, "What's up?"

And for a moment, I really thought she was going to say something. She opened her mouth to, partially, and then her breath hitched and she shut it again, shaking her head.

"Nothing."

_**A/N: I hate GCSEs SO MUCH. It means NO FanFic time! I' m sorry me lovelies, I've been taking so long to write this, but it had a few revisions- which is odd considering it's just a collection of mediocre drabbles. Anyway, there's some more James/Lily action and some Marauders being Marauders as well so hope you enjoyed! Review if you did x**_


	73. A Compendium Of Drabbles III

_The end of sixth year, everybody is packing up for summer. _

"Pass me my sweatshirt, Moony?" I asked, trying to find space for it in the overflowing mound of laundry I had left for my mum to do when we got home. He threw it over to me, a garish red and yellow thing that had been commissioned by the Gryffindor Quidditch team to try and install house pride. It was by far my favourite item of clothing.

As I tried with all my strength to close the latches on my now bursting trunk, a knock at the door momentarily diverted my concentration and the lid sprung open once again. Swearing, I made to open it.

Lily and Hester stood at the door, trunks behind them, smiling sadly.

"Are you boys ready to go?" Hester asked. Sirius nodded, grabbing his trunk- which he had had no trouble closing- and strolling to the door to throw his free arm over Hester's shoulders and plant a kiss on the top of her head. She beamed beneath him, and suddenly the rest of us felt quite distanced from the two and their perfect little world of couple-dom.

Following Sirius' lead, Remus and Peter also shuffled out the door, dragging their cases behind them awkwardly.

"You coming, Potter?" Lily asked, cocking an eyebrow as I stared forlornly at my bags. Snapping out of my daze, I arched my eyebrows for a moment before fully comprehending what they had said.

"Uh, yeah, I'll meet you down there in a sec," I said, not meeting her eyes. From my peripheral vision I saw Remus give Sirius a questioning look. Sirius only shrugged. They began to leave as I took a last look around my room and sighed.

"What's wrong?" asked a voice, much nearer to me now than it had been a second ago. I jumped, having thought I was finally alone, but being with Lily was better by far.

I scrambled for an answer to my question. "Uh, my trunk, it won't shut, it's too full..." I told her, giving it another push as an example. Lily giggled slightly, and then clambered on top of it and sat cross legged.

"How about now?" she asked, smiling widely, and finally I shut the clasps and locked them with a quick spell. If only I had known a spell to shrink the clothes, but charms were always Lily's forte.

"Thanks," I said, still not meeting her eyes, looking around the room again. I drank it all in, the four beds, the curtains Professor Dumbledore had once told me he hated, the dent in Peter's bed that his rotund body had made, the pristine edges of Remus' made up sheets.

"What are you looking at?" Lily asked, following my gaze around my room but not seeing what I could have been so absorbed by.

"Nothing," I told her, "It's just that the next time I leave this room, I won't be coming back." As I said the words they began to sink in. _A life beyond Hogwarts. _What kind of life would that be? A life where I was responsible for myself. A life where people killed and tortured and cast the sky over with ominous looking skulls and where I couldn't even hide from it behind the castle walls.

A life where I didn't even know if I would have Lily any more, in whatever pathetic sort of way I had her now.

Sensing my unhappiness, Lily placed a hand on my shoulder.

"You'll be alright James," she assured me, "It's only the world. You've already lived in it for seventeen years." I huffed.

"What makes you so sure?" I asked playfully, turning away from my room to face her and trying not to be startled as I so often was by the green of her eyes. She bit her lip, frowning a little, and I wondered if she had talked herself into the kind of corner that left her with only the truth left to say, and I wondered if she was ready to share that truth with me yet.

"You just will, James," she said finally, and my heart sank a little, "you're one of those people."

"Thanks, Lil," I replied, trying not to sound disappointed, and began to haul my trunk out of the room to meet the others. "You know, I'm really going to miss you this summer."

"I'm going to miss you too," Lily replied sincerely, and then she threw her arms around my shoulders in an unexpected motion and hugged me. I let my trunk tumble to the floor as I hugged her back, arms tight around her waist and burying my head into her neck, pretending for as long as I could make it last that somewhere in the back of her mind, Lily loved me.

_The summer, and Sirius and James are spending some time in the country whilst Mr and Mrs Potter do some work for the Ministry. _

There's something wonderful about England when the sun shines. The moments are few and far apart, but on those scarce weeks in the summer when she manages to shrug her clouded coat, England looks absolutely glorious. Sitting on a fence in Devon, watching cows marvel bewilderedly at the kissing gate, I had the undeniable impression of being in a Constable painting, or a Keats poem.

Sirius sat beside me, swinging his legs. He had rolled his jeans up to his knees and his legs looked remarkably skinny, drowning in his combat boots which he insisted on wearing even in the sweltering heat. He was chewing a piece of straw absent-mindedly, with one of those looks I rarely ever saw grace his face. Contentment.

"We should live here," he said decidedly, not even turning to look at me.

"What, with the cows and the chickens and the rain on every other day of the year?" I scoffed. Sirius shrugged.

"I don't mind the rain. But it's peaceful out here, I could almost forget about London entirely." Forgetting about London was a welcome thought, London had been weighing on our minds at the moment. Just a few nights ago, the _Prophet _had regretfully reported the explosion of a muggle theatre- reportedly due to a 'gas leak'. _Not Likely, _Sirius had said.

Bellatrix Black, now Lestrange, and her mental husband had been in that audience, laughing and screaming for an encore.

"But Hester's in London," I reminded him. Well, actually, she was in Kirby with her new boat, but that was where they would be meeting up again in a few days. Sirius had booked them a room in the Leaky Cauldron.

"She can move with me," he shrugged, "then we could both live out here," I chuckled at the thought, and then we lapsed back into silence to ponder deeper things, surrounded by the countryside's majesty.

The peace was broken again, this time by two loud _crack_s_. _My head snapped in the direction of the noise to see my parents, looking a right mess, their eyes darting wildly around them. My dad's shirt was ripped, my mum's nose was bleeding, and they were both gripping their wands readily.

"Mum! Dad! What's happening?" I called to them, jumping down from the fence and running, Sirius taking to his feet behind me.

"James!" My mother cried, pulling me to her and hugging me desperately. My dad placed a hurried and sorrowful hand on her arm, pulling her away, taking her place and grasping my shoulders.

"Dad," I tried to say, unable to fathom the sudden urgency and sobriety of the situation, "what's happening?" My dad looked terrified, he had grey bags under his eyes and from up close I could see dozens of tiny scratches all over his face.

"Don't- ask questions son," he replied, his speech broken by his panting as he scrabbled for the right words, "You need- to _go,_" I shook my head.

"I'm not leaving, Dad, what's going on?" I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, like a moment was approaching that I had been dreading all my life.

"You _have _to go- James," he insisted, gripping me so tight it hurt. "They're coming-"

With that there were three more cracking sounds and suddenly we four were not alone.

"Death Eaters!" Sirius called from behind me, his wand already drawn, already shooting stunning spells, and suddenly we were duelling, and all around me the sky exploded with streaks of lights from spells.

Spinning around, I sent a spell towards the Death Eater attacking Sirius, shooting a jet of fire at the cloaked figure. They ducked, returning with a particularly nasty sounding spell which hissed malevolently as it whistled past my ear.

"James!" my mother was calling, "James!" I turned to find her set upon by two new Death Eaters who had joined the brawl. Leaping over a wicked looking snake which had evidently been conjured during the duel, I ran to her side, stunning the two of them simultaneously and binding them. Turning back to face the rest, my mother yanked me down, conjuring a sudden shield.

I recognised the spell for one Remus had once tried to teach us to confine his wolf self should he ever get out of control. It was strong as concrete, impossible to penetrate magically or otherwise, but we had never been able to achieve it properly, it required an immense amount of concentration to maintain only for a few seconds.

"Listen to me, James," she insisted, shushing me before I had a chance to speak. "You have to go, take Sirius with you," I began to shake my head but she grabbed my collar and looked me in the eyes with the serious look she always gave me when I was misbehaving. "James, these people, they were attacking a muggle school out near Sheepwash, there are some children out there with wounds ordinary muggle doctors won't be able to fix. You and Sirius _have _to go and help them."

"Mum," I said, jumping in as she took in a breath, "we can't just leave you."

"You have to go James," she insisted.

"But they'll kill you!" I cried, and at that moment there was a ripple in the shield, my mum was losing focus.

"I love you Jamie," she promised, "I love you, my little boy," and then she let down the shield and yelled at me to run, and I ran.

Grabbing Sirius by the wrist, I turned on my heel and away from my parents for the last time.

_**Hey guys, I am so sorry it's been so long to update but I've been super-crazy busy since exams ended with loads of stuff you don't car about. This chapter isn't done but I felt bad leaving you guys hanging so here is half of it to satiate your needs, I promise I haven't forgotten you!**_


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